


Behind These Eyes

by vastimagines



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Canon Asexual Character, Canon Bisexual Character, Comfort/Angst, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, M/M, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Jon, Other, Past Relationships, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Touch Starved Jon, chosen family, communication is key, everyone is queer and no one is neurotypical fight me, lots of pining, mental health, not sure what to do for rating, past trauma, there's cursing and trauma discussion, tma is a romcom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 43,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23924353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vastimagines/pseuds/vastimagines
Summary: When Jon was promoted to Head Archivist, their dynamics changed somewhat and Jon had no idea how to handle that. When Sasha catches Jon mid-panic attack, Jon starts to open up more than he's ever opened up to anyone in his entire life, and it may just be the change that the Archives staff needs.**Content Warnings: Anxiety, Panic Attack, Alcohol, Smoking, Cursing
Relationships: Georgie Barker & Jonathan Sims, Georgie Barker/Melanie King, Jonathan Sims/Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker, Sasha James/Tim Stoker
Comments: 226
Kudos: 889





	1. Adjustment Breakdown

**Author's Note:**

> I usually enjoy writing angst, but The Magnus Archives doesn't have enough happiness in it so I'm putting it in myself! I hope you enjoy!
> 
> The working title of this chapter was "elias is a bitch".

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Jon's recent promotion to Head Archivist, he finds himself quickly overwhelmed and feeling quite inadequate compared to who he knew should have been lined up to receive the promotion.
> 
> **Content Warnings: Anxiety, Panic attack

Something changed with Jon when he got the promotion to Head Archivist. Everyone including Jon knew that Sasha had far more experience than him and that she would have been a much more capable archivist. Elias had other ideas apparently.

Elias called Jon to his office one day and made polite conversation for a minute before telling him why’d he asked for him. Gertrude Robinson would no longer be working at the Institute and they needed to fill the space of Head Archivist, and the person filling that space would be Jon. Maybe Jon should have been excited, but he’d been shocked and confused. He knew that the position should have gone to Sasha, but Elias was his boss. He had to have a reason for giving the position to Jon, right? Or was it just a sexist decision? Either way, Jon said yes. What else could he have said?

Things changed after that.

Jon dove headfirst into the new work he now had: a disorganized mess that the previous Head Archivist had left. It was hard to find anything and at the beginning, it was hard for Jon to focus on it all without getting a headache. He was working harder than he’d ever worked before, determined to see that he was capable of the position he’d been given. He worked longer hours and didn’t talk as much with the others unless he needed something. Oftentimes he was simply exhausted by the time he returned to his flat and just went to bed, and when he woke up it’d be time for him to shower and go back to work.

One day, maybe two weeks into working as the Head Archivist, he was filing some statements when he heard laughter. He peeked around the corner of the shelf he was hidden behind and saw Tim and Sasha near their desks. They weren’t doing anything really. Sasha had just come in and still had her coat on and Tim held two cups in his hands, presumably for Sasha and himself. They were both smiling; just talking and greeting each other on the brisk morning that it’d been. Jon stepped back behind the shelf with the statements with a small smile despite his chest feeling heavy.

He didn’t have time and…

He wondered if they were mad at him if Sasha was mad at him.

He missed his friends. He’d never had many friends ever really, but… 

His head dropped, his chin touching his chest as he breathed deeply and slowly let it all out. He couldn’t do this. This job wasn’t his. He grit his teeth anxiously at having to confront his boss about it, but it’d only been two weeks and Jon was only barely treading his own in all the work the position of Head Archivist required.

* * *

Jon hadn’t even knocked on the closed door when Elias’s voice said from inside, “Come in.”

Jon’s pulse quickened. Did he know why he was there? How’d he know that he was there? Had he heard his footsteps approaching? Was the door really that thin?

Jon pushed open the door and found Elias behind his desk, typing on his computer.

“Close the door, Jon.” Jon did as he said and went to stand in front of Elias’ desk. Elias finished what he was doing and looked up from his computer. “What can I do for you, Jon?”

Jon bit his lip, trying to remember the exact words he’d rehearsed before going up there. “I’d like to talk to you about stepping down as Head Archivist,” he said, and when Elias stayed quiet, he continued. “Sasha is much more prepared and has more experience that would make her a more suitable candidate for the position of Head Archivist.”

“Are you saying that I picked wrong?” Elias asked.

Elias stared at him, his throat caught on his breath. “I-”

“Jon,” Elias started, and Jon grit his teeth, holding himself still. “I take careful consideration in choosing employees to work at this institute. I take great care in who I give positions to work in this place and in the event that an employee’s time here is terminated, it is my decision as to who fills that role. I chose you because I know that you’re capable of doing what I need you to do as the Archivist. Do you understand?”

Jon nodded almost without thinking. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good.” Elias smiled. “I know you won’t disappoint me,” he said and went back to typing on his computer.

Jon stood there for a moment before realizing that he was supposed to leave then and walked out of Elias’ office, closing the door on his way out. He stood right there in front of Elias’ office for a moment, his mind rushing to figure out what to do. His chest started growing tighter and the rushing in his head got faster. A drink, he thought. He needed to settle down and figure out what to do next.

He went straight to the breakroom where he found Martin making tea with multiple mugs out on the counter, steam pouring out of them. Martin must have heard him because he turned around and smiled when he saw Jon.

“Hello, Jon. I’ve made tea if you’d like some.”

Jon nodded. “Yes, actually.” Jon walked closer and Martin handed him a warm cup of milky tea. “Thank you, Martin."

“It’s no problem at all.”

Jon took a tentative sip from the mug, the steam washing over his face. He turned around without another word and went back to his office, closing the door behind him.

Jon lost track of the days after that. He threw himself into work, desperately trying to keep afloat in the mess of statements and research that always surrounded him. He brought statements home and often worked through his breaks. He didn’t realize that he’d been sleeping less until he looked up from a statement one night at his flat and saw that it was two in the morning. He came in later than he’d meant to the next day and legitimately ran into Tim who said that he looked like hell.

“Are you all right?” he’d asked after a moment.

Jon just said, “I’m fine. I just have a lot of work to do.” and had been on his way.

* * *

“Hey, Boss. I found some of those statements you wanted.”

Jon looked up despite knowing that voice all too well. Tim walked into his office holding a couple of small folders and Jon found himself internally sighing a bit of relief at the size of the folders. He nodded. “Thank you, Tim. Uh-” Jon looked around at his desk littered in piles of statements and folders. He bit his lip as he started shuffling through a pile. Tim put the folders he’d brought down on a pile on Jon’s desk as Jon pulled out a few folders and handed them to Tim. “These files are all from the eighteen-hundreds.”

Tim took the files, staring at him for a moment. “All right. What do you want me to do with them?”

“Just- We must have a pile for that time period. Just put them there.”

“All right.”

No matter how much work they put into this, how many hours Jon stayed awake working on the Archives, it still remained a colossal mess. The stacks on Jon’s desk never went down and in fact, they only grew. Jon’s door was always shut in an effort to have some bit of control.

It had to have been a few weeks later when Jon found himself standing at his own desk. He must have stood quickly, as a few papers fell off his desk and drifted to the floor. He just stared at those papers lying on the floor. He had to pick those up. Instead, his hands both came up to his face as his breaths started to come more rapidly. He covered his face, his eyes closed, trying to relax. He inhaled deeply, trying to slow his breaths, but after a few moments, he realized that it wasn’t working. He dragged his hands over his face, letting them fall at his sides. His blood felt like it was boiling and his skin tingled.

Why couldn’t he do this right? What was he doing wrong?

He leaned forward and in a moment, dozens of folders and even more statements were on the floor. All the folders had fallen open and now his office floor was covered in a flood of papers that he needed to pick up and reorganize. His breaths came quicker and he thought he should sit down. He sat down on the cold floor, his back up to the wall. His head fell into his hands, his knees pulled up near his chest.

There was a knock on the door and Jon recognized Sasha’s voice, but he didn’t answer, he couldn’t bring himself to answer. He couldn’t let anyone see himself like this.

_ You’re wrong, Elias _ , he thought.  _ I can’t do this. _

Jon listened to the door slowly open, but he kept his head in his hands.

Christ. What is she going to think of him?

“Jon?”

Jon realized he’d started to rock himself back and forth when he heard her voice. The door closed and Jon grit his teeth, making himself hold still while he looked up at Sasha who looked concerned.

“Jon, what happened?”

Jon took a minute and looked at the sea of papers and folders between himself and Sasha. “Some things fell.”

“I can see that.” She glanced around the room before her eyes came to rest on him again and Jon wished that she would look anywhere else. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” came the pre-recorded response before he even thought about it. He watched Sasha walk around his desk and sit down beside him. 

“Jon, you’re not okay. What happened. Jon?”

Jon felt his eyes start to sting and grew furious with himself. His breaths started to rile up again and his skin started to tremble as he scratched his arm.

“You should be Archivist, not me,” he blurted out, and all of a sudden he found himself spilling everything he’d never said out loud. “Everyone knows it and I told Elias as such because I can’t do this job, I just can’t. I’m not experienced enough, I don’t know what I’m doing. I try to be a good boss, but now everyone hates me because I don't know what I’m doing and everyone knows it and everyone knows that you should be the boss.” When he stopped talking, his breaths were shallow and many and he felt light-headed. He felt his eyes sting and hated himself for it.

“Jon,” Sasha started calmly, “it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” he said without missing a beat. “I’m not prepared and I’m not experienced. I’m not in my thirties, I’m in my twenties still and I- I can’t do this, Sasha.”

Jon still wasn’t looking at her, but he saw her move out of his peripheral vision and froze when he felt her arms wrap around him and heard her quiet voice. He might have stopped breathing for a moment. This felt different. What did it feel like?

“No one hates you, Jon. No one hates you,” she said, and Jon felt tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Elias may be a piece of sexist shit, but you aren’t,” she continued. “You’re doing your best with this situation that you’ve been put in and that’s all anyone can ask of you. Yeah, you’ve gotten to be a bit of a prick and a shut-in, but you’re trying.” She pulled back and Jon found himself wishing that she wouldn’t, that she’d keep her arms protectively wrapped around him. She looked him in the eyes. “Let people help you. Let  _ us _ help you.” She smiled. “You have assistants for a reason you know.”

A small smirk of his own followed hers. She was just holding his hands now, but Jon desperately hoped that she wouldn’t let go, that she wouldn’t leave him. His head still spun and his chest was clamped tightly and he was confused, but someone was holding his hands. It’d been years since someone had held his hands like this, had been there through one of his panic attacks. He felt her grip loosening and in a moment of sheer panic he blurted out, “Please don’t leave.”

Sasha stopped and stared at him and Jon didn’t look away. He could feel the tears leaving his eyes, but he thought it might be awkward if he let go of Sasha’s hand to wipe them away before trying to hold her hand again.

“I can stay,” she said, and Jon felt his chest loosen a bit. “What about some tea?” she suggested with a smile.

Jon managed a teary smile back, slowly nodding his head. “Do you think Martin would be okay with making some more tea?”

Sasha let out a small laugh. “I think he’d be more than happy to make some tea. Come on.” She slowly stood up, helping Jon get to his feet as well, and led him to his chair where he sat down and took her hands back. “I’m just going to ask Martin,” she said, walking back around to the door. “I’ll be right back.”

Jon nodded and watched the door open and close. He put his head down on his desk, trying to think through everything that had just happened with Sasha, but mostly he thought about how nice her hug had been. He hadn’t had that kind of contact since- well, since university; since Georgie.


	2. Tim has feelings and he doesn't like it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasha and Jon come out of Jon's office with plans for the Archives staff to all go out to lunch together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and comments, they mean so much!!!

Everyone looked up when they heard the yell from Jon’s office. Martin, Sasha, and Tim looked at each other as what sounded like thick stacks of folders fell behind Jon’s office door. Tim watched Martin for a moment who just seemed like he wasn’t sure what to do, but when he looked at Sasha, she was on her feet and walking towards the door. Both Martin and Tim watched Sasha knock on Jon’s door and slowly push it open when Jon didn’t answer. There were papers on the floor inside, scattered everywhere from what Tim could see from his minimal vantage point at his desk.

“Jon?” Sasha said. That was all Tim heard before she closed the door behind her.

Tim and Martin looked at each other. Martin seemed especially worried, though Tim would be lying if he said that he wasn’t at least a little bit worried about Jon as well. Despite that and the annoying jump in his pulse he’d felt when he’d realized the shout had come from Jon, Tim turned back to his computer and continued with his work.

Martin stood up. “I’m going to make some tea,” he said as if he wasn’t quite sure about his decision. “Would you like some, Tim?”

Tim looked back at Martin and nodded with a small smile. “I’d love some. Thanks, Martin.” Martin nodded and disappeared into the breakroom while Tim went back to work.

Jon’s door opened just as Martin was coming back with tea just a few minutes later. Sasha came out of Jon’s office and led Martin back inside with his tea. Martin came back out with two mugs of tea left, though he wasn’t smiling.

“How is he?” Tim asked as Martin handed him a hot cup of tea.

Martin just stood in front of him for a moment with his lips pursed. He glanced back at Jon’s office, the door closed once again with Jon and Sasha inside. “He’s going through something, Tim. I’m worried.

Tim spoke next without really thinking. “We all are, Martin.”

“I don’t know what to do, though,” he said, worry dripping off his voice. “It’s a mess in there, Tim. How do we help?”

Tim sat back in his chair. He wouldn’t admit that he was worried about Jon as well, at least not out loud. “Sasha’s the best of us, you know that. She’ll come out and we can get the scoop from her.”

Martin nodded and went back to his desk with his tea in hand.

Tim watched Jon’s door for a few moments before shaking his head and pushing his mind back to his work. Maybe Jon was having a crisis from work, but the rest of them had to get paid somehow.

Sasha was still in Jon’s office forty minutes later, and Tim couldn’t help but glance up at the door every few minutes or whenever he heard a noise that might have been the office door opening. He didn’t even know why he was so anxious. Well, that was somewhat of a lie.

_ Shut up, _ he told himself. He picked up his tea to take a long sip but as soon as the liquid hit his tongue, Tim flinched. His arm swung the mug of tea out from in front of him with a startled shout. He felt hot tea hit his legs and looked down to see wet spots on his slacks.

“Christ!”

“Are you okay?” he heard Martin ask.

“Fine,” he croaked, his tongue scalded. He stood up and placed his tea on his desk, a good distance from any papers that might have been in jeopardy. He looked down at his shirt and found similar tea stains on his chest. He let out a slow, deep breath before looking at Martin who looked like he was holding back a laugh.

“Shut it,” Tim said with a smirk that he couldn’t help.

“Want me to get you a towel?” Martin offered.

“Nah, I got it.”

Tim found some paper towels in the breakroom and did his best to wipe up his mess while he leaned over the sink with the tap running. He spent a few minutes doing what he could for his clothes before he gave up and decided he’d just have to give them a good wash when he got home.

He was just passing Jon’s office when the door opened and he saw Sasha and Jon right behind her. He looked behind them to see Jon’s desk still cluttered with stacks of folders of statements and the floor clear of anything that had fallen earlier.

“Tim!” Sasha said excitedly. “Care to go out for lunch today?”

“I’m buying,” Jon chipped in. Jon smiled, but when Tim looked at him his eyes were pink and he seemed tired, which wasn’t strange from the past two months, but still, it was noticeable.

Sasha turned to Jon with a smile that somehow seemed both stern and playful. “Jon,  _ I’m  _ paying. Lunch is for you to relax and actually eat something.”

Jon looked like he wanted to argue the point but thought better of it. “We split it then.”

Sasha thought about it for a moment before relenting with her smile. “Fine.” She then spun around and called out, “Martin, come on! We’re going out for lunch today.”

Martin looked up from his desk with a slightly bemused look on his face. “We are?”

“Yep!”

“Is Elias fine with us all leaving at once?” Time asked.

“To hell with what Elias thinks,” Jon said, pulling on his coat.

Tim stared at Jon with wide eyes for a moment before he laughed out loud. “I think that’s the first thing we’ve agreed on in weeks.”

Jon smiled quietly and nodded his head. “Let’s go.”

“Our coats are in the breakroom,” Tim mentioned. “We’ll be right back.”

Jon nodded. “Okay.”

Tim glanced at him once more before he followed Sasha to the breakroom. Jon was speaking so quietly. He hadn’t ever seen him like this. What happened in there?

As soon as they were in the breakroom Tim had a dozen questions he wanted to ask. What happened in Jon’s office? Why had she been in there for so long? Why were they suddenly all going out for lunch? The first thing that came out, however, was, “Is he okay?”

Sasha turned around to look at Tim as she got her coat and started to pull it on. She nodded, though she wasn’t smiling anymore. “He just needs some help right now.”

“Did Elias do something?”

“Besides making a twenty-something-year-old with minimal experience in archives and at least two anxiety disorders the Head Archivist with no training? Nothing much.” She handed Tim his coat and stopped to look up at him. “He’s just having some trouble and needs help.”

Tim took his coat and just held it for a moment. “You’re probably right,” he admitted, “but why didn’t he just come and ask us for help when he needed us? I mean, we’re his friends, or at least we used to be.”

Sasha poked him in his chest when he said that and she just shook her head. “Not everyone can cope as well as you manage you, big dummy.”

Tim managed a small smile as Sasha turned her smile back on, and as they left the breakroom, Tim pulled on his coat. They found Jon and Martin talking quietly near the stairs that lead to the upper levels. They ended their conversation as Tim and Sasha got closer and Tim wondered if Jon had been telling Martin what had happened. He wished he'd been a part of that conversation.

“Onwards to lunch!” Sasha announced with a flourish of her arm as she pointed upwards. This earned a laugh from Martin and smiles all around as they began their climb upstairs.

* * *

They were definitely at lunch longer than their allotted time for their break. No one cared, though. Despite Jon’s quiet and nervous change in attitude all of a sudden, everyone was happy to get a lengthier break from the stuffy archives. It was blissfully normal, filled with good food and conversation, but Tim couldn’t help but think of Jon and how quiet he was. He didn’t talk much the entire time and instead just seemed happy to be there with them, and he did look happy despite how exhausted he looked. Tim hadn’t seen him smile like that in a while.

“Ow.” He felt a hard nudge into his arm and turned to see Sasha with a mischievous smile. “What?” She side glanced across the table where Jon and Martin were carrying on a conversation where Jon seemed to be taking an active part. Jon seemed happy and so did Martin, and Tim smiled despite something in his chest dipping. He looked back to Sasha with his eyebrows raised, trying to play off what he knew she was insinuating.

“We’re going to get some biscuits,” Sasha announced. With a small acknowledgment from Jon and Martin, Sasha got up and pulled Tim out of his chair to go with her. They walked across the cafe and Sasha stopped in front of the glass displaying the plentiful amount of sweets they had to offer.

Tim crouched down to get a better look to decide which ones deserved their approval despite having been there many times before.

“Tim.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Sasha,” he said before Sasha could say anything more.

“Well he does,” she answered in a stern tone that he hadn’t been expecting.

Tim looked up at Sasha as she got the attention of an employee and asked for four biscuits. She turned to him with her biscuits in hand as Tim stood back up.

“I know you have trouble with people leaving you,” she said quieter, “but just talk to him. You’re not the only one who’s been through some hell.” Then Sasha turned and started walking back to their table and Tim followed with more questions.

He knew other people had difficult lives. Why did she think that he didn’t know that? Just because you’re stressed doesn’t give you the right to start acting like a prick. That doesn’t give Jon the right to stop talking to him.

They rejoined Martin and Jon at their table and Sasha started passing out biscuits. Tim looked at Jon and noticed that his eyes were pink again. He looked at Martin who didn’t seem any the wiser. Tim just swallowed his words as they finished their lunch. He hated it when he wasn’t in the loop.

The cafe was only a couple blocks from the Institute and it wasn’t a long walk. Almost as soon as they were outside and starting their walk back, Jon pulled back and started walking next to Tim.

“Tim, mind if we pull back a bit?”

Tim looked at Jon with a curious expression. “All right,” he said, and the two of them slowed their pace until Sasha and Martin were walking a few meters ahead of them. “What is it?” Tim asked as they started walking again.

“I’m sorry for being a prick recently,” Jon started. “I didn’t mean to be such a shut-in and close everyone out.”

Tim didn’t expect a long speech, but then Jon just kept going before Tim had a chance to reply. When he glanced at Jon, he saw that Jon wasn’t even really looking where he was going, but had his head down like he was afraid of anyone seeing him or looking at his face.

“We all know that Sasha should have gotten the promotion and I’m clearly not ready for this spot that I’ve been thrown into, and I know that you and Sasha are close and I just- I- I was afraid that you hated me, that everyone would hate me because Elias made some stupid decision to not give Sasha the job when Gertrude left and because I’m nowhere near qualified for this position.”

They stopped at a crosswalk and Jon stopped a fair distance behind Sasha and Martin who seemed to be caught up in their own conversation that seemed much more lighthearted than Jon’s apology speech.

“I’m-” Jon continued, stopping for a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I miss you all,” he said and looked at Tim.

Something in Tim’s chest was rattling around and Tim didn’t like it nor know what to do about it, but he nodded to Jon. “I understand and I accept your apology.”  _ I missed you, too. _ “We all missed you, too.” He gave Jon a hard nudge with his elbow with a smile. “Just don’t go isolating yourself when you have a problem next time, all right boss?”

Jon smiled, really smiled, rubbing his arm a bit. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

They kept eye contact for a moment before the signal turned for them to go and Tim internally let out a sigh of relief when the moment for him to do something really stupid passed.


	3. 2 Apologies and Outbursts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon reaches out to an old friend, and Tim and him talk about what's been going on lately between them.

Jon’s eyes opened to the darkness of his room. He just laid there breathing deeply for a while before taking in his surroundings. His blankets scrunched up in his fist, the curtains closed to London outside. There was just the quiet in his small flat. He closed his eyes and suddenly remembered what he’d woken up from. Maybe remembered was too strong of a word, but he could see the face from his dream and after hesitating for a few minutes, he sat up in bed and reached out for his phone and glasses. He put on his glasses, the edges of the furniture in his room coming into focus in the dim light, and quickly unlocked his phone.

He searched through his contacts until he found the one he was looking for. He just stared at her name for what seemed like a very long moment. After his breakdown last week he’d been reminded of Georgie and kept thinking of her when his mind wasn’t occupied elsewhere. It’d taken time to admit to, but he’d missed her, and after the dream he’d had, he momentarily put aside the fact that she loathed him and for good reason. He opened a new chat and sent her a message.

 **Jonathan Sims:** Are you all right?

He stared at the message for a minute, maybe more, he wasn’t sure. He closed his eyes and forced himself to stop and take a deep breath. _Just go to sleep._ He took off his glasses and put them and his phone back on his nightstand.

Would she even respond?

He turned onto his back and threw his hands onto his face. What was he thinking? It was just some dream. His emotions have been in flux. He could hear her taunting him and giving him a look. He hadn’t seen her in years and they hadn’t parted on brilliant terms, and it was completely his fault. Why had he thought she would want to hear from him or want anything to do with him? Had he thought that?

When Jon woke up to his alarm, he found new notifications on his phone. The clouds in his head immediately cleared when he saw Georgie’s name. He pushed himself up in his bed and held his phone tighter than he needed to. He felt his pulse quicken and he tried to relax himself with a few deep breaths, but they didn’t seem to be that helpful. He let out a deep breath and swiped open his phone to the conversation he’d left open last night.

 **Georgie:** I’m fine?  
 **Georgie:** Are you alright?

Jon bit his lip as he stared at the screen. What could he say? _Hey, I know we haven’t talked in years and I’m a piece of shit but I had this weird dream about you that I don’t remember and needed to make sure you were okay._ Whatever he did say, it was too late to not say anything and pretend like nothing ever happened.

 **Jonathan Sims:** You’re going to think I’m stupid, but I had a dream last night and wanted to make sure that you were okay.

Jon was ready to put his phone done and go shower before he saw the three dots on the bottom of the screen, and suddenly his whole body was focused on waiting for her response.

 **Georgie:** You’re right. That is kinda stupid

Jon let his breath go but he couldn’t help the smile that found its way onto his face. Same old Georgie.

 **Georgie:** You didn’t answer my question

 **Jonathan Sims:** I’m fine

 **Georgie:** Noone’s ever just fine Sims  
 **Georgie:** Plus you’re not exactly the social calling type

That’s right. Georgie actually knew him. He’d forgotten that he couldn’t just hide things from her like he hid things from the others.

 **Jonathan Sims:** There’s just been a lot going on  
 **Jonathan Sims:** and I’ve been thinking about you lately

 **Georgie:** oh really

Jon looked up and away from his phone, letting out a sharp exhale. Why couldn’t talking with people be easier? Why couldn’t he just say he’s fine and have other people just know what he meant? Fucking useless emotions are.

 **Jonathan Sims:** Look, I’m sorry that we didn’t part on great terms. I’m sorry we fought and I know it’s my fault I’ve known that for a long time now. I’m sorry that I didn’t get up the nerve to tell you this sooner

 **Georgie:** This better not be some cheesy way to try to get back together  
 **Georgie:** because it’s not working

 **Jonathan Sims:** No not at all. I mean it. I should have apologized a long time ago but really, I’m sorry and I hope that you can forgive me.

Jon waited for the little bubble to appear again but the screen remained still and quiet. He took a deep breath, his head buzzing, and put his phone down and got out of bed.

He went to his washroom and took a shower, all the while trying not to feed his anxiety with this whole situation. Maybe Georgie would forgive him, but she probably wouldn’t. She’d probably say something like _it’s too little too late_ and never speak to him again. Jon stopped for a moment and just let the hot water wash over him and found himself hoping that wouldn’t be the case. He walked back to his room with just his towel and made the direct decision to get dressed before he checked his phone.

_There won’t be a response. She probably doesn’t even want to talk to you._

Jon buttoned up his shirt as he thought all those things over and over again. Better to not be hopeful than to be disappointed when she didn’t respond. He sat down on his bed to put on his socks and only after that did he let himself pick up his phone and… There were new messages; more than one.

 **Georgie:** I forgive you Jon  
 **Georgie:** I forgave you a long time ago tbh  
 **Georgie:** it is nice to get an apology tho

Jon couldn't help his smile and how his eyes crinkled. He just held his phone, breathing slowly in relief as he stared at those messages. He watched the three dots on the bottom of the screen start to dance and was gifted with another message.

 **Georgie:** so what has Jonathan Sims been up to since uni?

 **Jonathan Sims:** Not much  
 **Jonathan Sims:** Are you still ghost hunting?

 **Georgie:** I have my own podcast now. Its called What the Ghost. You should listen

 **Jonathan Sims:** I’ll check it out

 **Georgie:** so i should expect a response in about a month?

 **Jonthan Sims:** I’m not that bad

 **Georgie:** uh huh

Jon turned the screen off with a smile, maybe the widest smile he’d shown in months. He wasn’t sure how to describe how talking to Georgie again made him feel, but he knew that he was happier just to talk to her than he’d been in a long time.

He finished getting ready and grabbed his bag, making sure everything he’d brought home was still in there and that he wasn’t forgetting anything. Sliding his phone into his pocket, he grabbed his keys and left his flat. Just as he locked the door behind himself, he felt his pocket buzz once and pulled it out with maybe a little too much enthusiasm.

 **Georgie:** you still live in london?

 **Jonathan Sims:** Yes

 **Georgie:** I’ve got nothing going on thursday. Wanna meet up for lunch?

 **Jonathan Sims:** Sure do you have a place in mind?

 **Georgie:** yep! I’ll send you the address

Georgie’s next message was a location of a shop Jon had passed a myriad of times before but never actually gone in.

He started walking out, his chest filled with something he wasn’t sure exactly how to describe, but he felt happy. He’d been so sure that he’d lost Georgie for good, but now she was right here, in London, and talking to him. He couldn’t be this lucky.

He stopped to look down at his phone for three, maybe eight, he wasn’t sure how many seconds, but his chest was tight again. He breathed in deeply, holding that oxygen right inside his lungs as he typed out his next words carefully. Only when he finally jammed the send button did he let himself exhale, his head spinning.

 **Jonathan Sims:** I missed you, Georgie

 **Georgie:** aw don’t get sappy on me now sims

And a few seconds later there was another text.

 **Georgie:** I missed you too

Jon opened the door to the outside to find it pouring rain. It hadn’t been raining two minutes ago but it was downpouring now. _Damnit_. Jon took a breath and stepped into the rain and began walking as quickly as he could with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. The walk to the transit station wasn’t bad, but it was a couple blocks from where he got off to the Institute, and he was dreading that bit. Jon’s coat was already soaked and heavy. He just hoped that his bag was thick enough to protect the papers inside.

Jon was only halfway from the station to the Institute when he realized just how much the rain had gotten to him. His clothes were sticking to his skin now, his feet were cold and very uncomfortable, and his hair was plastered to his skin. Whenever he caught a burst of wind from traffic the chill reached his bones and he shivered. It wasn’t even winter yet but by the time he had the Institute in sight, he was freezing. Not even his hands were dry. He climbed the stairs and pulled the front door of the Magnus Institute open, stepping inside where it was warm and blissfully dry. He let out a brisk exhale and walked in. He hoped that the Archives would be warmer than they had been the last few days, but even if they weren’t, he was just glad to be out of the rain.

“Get the worst of it, did you?” Rosie said, sitting behind the front desk. She seemed like she’d dressed for the weather appropriately with her hair pinned up tightly and a shawl wrapped around her shoulders that looked very warm.

“Seems that way,” Jon replied simply. “The one day I’m late and it’s downpouring. Figures.”

“Maybe it’s a cosmic sign,” she said with a mischievous smile.

Jon managed a smile and rolled his eyes. “Right.”

“You work in _this_ place and you still manage to be a skeptic, Jon.” She tutted with a shake of her head. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“Have a good day, Rosie.”

“You, too.”

Jon made his way downstairs leaving wet footprints behind him. He pushed the door open to the Archives and walked in. A cool draft hit his face and he silently cursed. He was going to be shivering all day. The door clanked close behind him as he walked in. Tim, Sasha, and Martin were at their desks and all glanced up at the noise. Jon watched smirks all jump onto their faces when they saw him.

“Raining outside is it?” Sasha asked and he could hear the laughter begging to be let out in her voice. Martin suppressed a laugh with a hand over his mouth.

“Haha.” Jon pulled his bag off and dropped it on a table with a loud thud.

Sasha and Tim both laughed, and despite how miserable and cold he was it was nice to hear them all laugh.

Tim sat back in his chair, spinning around with a pen in hand, and his smile spread over his face. “Geez, you look like some poor, victorian orphan.”

Jon looked down at himself, his clothing and soggy. He could just imagine how much worse he’d look once he took his coat off. “Well, I was born in the nineties, so I guess you’re half right.”

“Oh.”

No one spoke after that and Jon looked up to see the three of them just staring at him, their smiles suddenly gone. Jon started pulling his coat off. “It’s not a big deal. It happened a long time ago and I hardly knew them.” His coat must have weighed ten times heavier and he really hoped it would dry by the end of the day, but something told him he shouldn’t get his hopes up.

“What happened?” Sasha asked.

“Life.”

Martin stood and started walking from his desk. “Well, I’m going to see if we don’t have any towels to help dry you off.”

“Thanks, Martin. Sorry for killing the mood.”

Sasha waved her arm. “Nah. We were actually theorizing why you were late.”

“I’d like to go back to that conversation,” Tim announced.

Sasha leaned forward with an elbow on her knee. “So where were you?”

“I got caught up talking with an old friend.”

“Hold up!” Tim yelled. “Hold up! Jonathan Sims has a social life?”

Jon turned back to his bag to start taking inventory of the state of everything within it. He wasn’t exactly sure how he wanted to respond to that. “Just a friend from uni.” The folders he pulled out were damp, but the papers inside all seemed dry enough and Jon let out a relieved breath. He picked up all his things and turned around to go to his office when he found everyone still looking at him. “Don’t you all have work to do?” He heard the hint of anxiety in his voice and hoped that none of them would pick up on it.

In his office, he went straight to work. He hung up his jacket and laid out his bag on the floor after emptying it. He kept the door closed, He told himself, to preserve the little warmth his office might have had. Martin had come in with a towel he’d managed to find that Jon gratefully took and did his best to mop up his hair and the residual rain still dripping off his clothes. He jumped right into his work, trying not to think about how his coworkers might see him differently now that they knew a little more about him.

Why had he said that? He should have just kept his mouth shut and laughed along.

He recorded a few statements that all seemed like the average paranoia of people thinking that they were being haunted or experienced a very normal bug infestation. They all recorded on his computer fine which led Jon to even further believe that there was nothing supernatural about any of these statements. Just people startled by the realities and very mundane happenings of the world.

He was sorting the statements he’d finished to file away later when there was a knock on his door and he answered, “Come in.” The door opened and in stepped Tim. “What is it?” He scribbled down a note for himself about the statements for later before stopping to look up at Tim.

“Can we talk?”

Jon instantly felt his anxiety come back. He’d found that lately reading statements helped him calm himself and relax, but his head immediately started buzzing at just those three words. “Of course.”

Tim closed the door and walked further into Jon’s office. “I’m sorry about earlier. It was a stupid joke.”

Jon had to stop the sigh of relief he felt. Nothing important; he wasn’t here to argue with him or tell him off like usual then. “It’s really nothing, Tim. I’m an adult and it happened when I was a little kid. You don’t have to apologize.

Tim’s hands were in his pockets and even though he was making eye contact, Jon got the feeling that he wasn’t really here by choice.

“Sasha made you come in, didn’t she?”

Tim was quiet for a moment before he spoke up. “Well, if it’s really not a big deal, I’ll be on my way unless you need me to do anything.”

Jon just nodded his head and kept his mouth shut until Tim reached the door and he found himself speaking. “Actually, I do have a question.” Tim turned back around to look at him and Jon found himself suddenly uncomfortable with eye contact. He held his hands in front of him on his desk, only looking at them with his sleeves still damp. “I just want to know if you hate me for getting this position instead of Sasha.”

“What?”

Jon didn’t repeat himself. He just stared at his hands quietly until Tim started to speak again.

“I don’t hate you, Jon. I’ve never hated you.”

When it was clear that Tim didn’t have anything else to say, Jon spoke up. “You stopped talking to me after I got promoted.”

“Yeah, well you don’t much at all.”

“That never stopped you before, back in research.” Jon slowly looked up and saw Tim deliberating what to say next. Jon bit the inside of his lip, trying not to fidget.

“Look,” Tim said finally, “Maybe I am- was mad, but whatever, it doesn’t matter.”

For whatever reason, Jon found himself more annoyed than anything at that answer. “Really?”

Tim’s voice suddenly rose. “Really! Look, Sasha was lined up for that promotion and then Elias completely side-stepped her for _you_ . Sasha was ready for this job and Elias made a stupid, sexist, judgment call to skip her over. If I’m mad at _anyone_ then it’s Elias!”

“Then stop taking it out on me!” Jon was suddenly on his feet and staring Tim back in the eyes. “I see how you look at me! Ever since Sasha helped me out weeks ago. At least she tries to understand and Martin- Lord knows what he thinks- he’s kind enough to not just ignore me even though I’m an ignorant prick. I’m _trying_ , Tim, I really am, but I am not your enemy.” Jon stopped to take a breath and thought Tim would shout back at him, but he just stood there staring at him. “I thought maybe apologizing and trying to be better was enough. It seemed to be enough for Sasha and Martin and I’m trying to be better, but even after I tried talking to you and you seemed fine, it didn’t change and I don’t know what else to do.” He stared at Tim who didn’t seem to know what to say. “I don’t know what you want me to do,” he said in a quieter tone.

It took Tim what felt like several long moments to respond, but when he did he sighed. “Jon, look I’m- I didn’t mean to take anything out on you. It’s just that-”

“Elias is the boss and you don’t want to lose your job,” Jon finished.

Tim pursed his lips. “Yeah, something like that. Elias is a prick and, well, you know.”

“I do know. It’s not like you’re the only one that doesn’t like Elias.”

At that, Tim seemed to pick up a bit and Jon saw the inkling of a smirk on his face.

“Really, Tim.” Jon sat back in his chair, the cushion wet and slightly uncomfortable. “You thought I liked Elias? I don’t think there’s a single person in this entire Institute that doesn’t have at least one problem with him.” Tim laughed at that which made Jon smile. The tension in the room started to lift.

“Yeah.” Tim lifted a hand to the back of his head. “You’re probably right about that.”

Jon sat back in his chair with his arms loosely crossed over his chest. “Can we finally agree that Elias is a piece of shit and be friends again?”

Something crossed Tim’s face though Jon wasn’t sure what it was, some kind of emotion he couldn’t identify in time. Tim let on a smile though, and that’s all that mattered to Jon in the moment. Tim walked up to the front of Jon’s desk and held out his hand with his signature, tricksty smile.

“All aboard the shit on Elias train.”

Jon smirked and stood up to shake Tim’s hand.

“Friendship accepted,” Tim said, and Jon laughed.


	4. 2 Friends, Issue and Solution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon meets Georgie for lunch and starts to realize just how much he'd missed having a real friend around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaa this chapter took a lot longer than the others because it involves a lot of anxiety in Jon, and I wanted to make sure I did these first in-person interactions between Jon and Georgie right. I hope you enjoy!

“Hey, Sasha.”

Sasha looked up from her computer to see Jon as he walked up to her at her desk. She was probably researching something that he’d asked her to look into and Jon didn’t really want to bother her, but he felt like he needed to say something.

“Yes,” she said as she looked up.

“I just- um, I wanted to say thank you for yesterday.”

Sasha just stared at him, not seeming to quite understand while Jon held one hand half in his pocket while the other nervously fidgeted at his side.

“For talking to Tim I mean,” he expanded. “He came in about the orphan joke which wasn’t an issue at all, but it gave me the chance to ask him something that’s been on my mind and well, I think we’re on better footing now so, thank you.” Jon watched a small smile form on Sasha’s face.

“That’s all well and nice and very much appreciated as I do put a  _ lot  _ of effort into these archives, but I didn’t tell him to go talk to you.”

“You didn’t?”

“No, stupid. Tim has feelings too, you know.”

“I know that,” Jon said indignantly. “It’s just that-”

“Just what, Jon?” Sasha sat back in her chair, spinning to face more head-on.

Jon started fidgeting with the fabric of his pants while he thought about what words to say. “After… you know, when you helped me out that one time.”

“That one time?” she jested.

“You know what I mean. When I kind of, freaked out a little bit.”

“When you had a panic attack in your office.”

“Yeah, that. Tim was weird after especially like I’d slighted him.”

A look of understanding passed Sasha’s face and she uncrossed her arms. “It’s not you specifically, Jon.”

“Oh, so it’s just partially me.”

Sasha ignored his remark and kept going. “You know Tim doesn’t like being left out of the loop,” she said to which Jon nodded. “He knows that he’s the only one in the Archives who wasn’t in your office that day and he doesn’t know what happened. Martin and I respect you and won’t talk about it if you don’t want to talk about it, but Tim feels like he’s being targeted by that.”

“Well, he’s not,” Jon replied, getting snippy rather quickly. “Maybe he should just learn to be less nosy.”

“Maybe,” she said with a look that Jon thought might’ve meant that Jon wasn’t the first one to have Tim’s trust issues to deal with. “He just holds friends pretty close and doesn’t want to be lied to.”

“I’m not lying to him.”

“I know that. Why don’t you go tell him that?”

Jon just kept his lips tightly closed after that and wondered how the conversation had moved so quickly to something that he didn’t know how to talk about.

“You know I’m right,” she said with a smirk.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered before turning to go back to his office until Sasha called out to him and turned back to look at her spun around in her chair.

“Tim and I started a pile of all the statements we found from letters to Jonah Magnus. We’re calling it the  _ Jilted Ex-Lovers of Jonah Magnus _ files,” she said, adding a dramatic flair with her hands, and Jon couldn’t help but laugh which seemed to make Sasha happy.

“How many have you found?”

“Quite a few actually. Not sure who he is, but he definitely worked here at some point.”

“Tell me if you learn anything else.” Jon turned back to his office to continue his work. He wanted to get through at least one more statement before lunch.

* * *

Jon had made the decision not to take the tube. He could just as easily walk to the restaurant where he’d agreed to meet Georgie, and even if the tube would be a bit quicker and he’d never been the fittest person, he didn’t regret his decision to walk. The walk there gave him time to think and prepare (over prepare really) himself for Georgie and it was always easier to think when he was on his feet.

Should he apologize more thoroughly? Did she actually forgive him or did she just say that to try to make things less awkward for him? What would she want to talk about? He hadn’t listened to her podcast; he should have. It would’ve been something to talk about instead of sitting in awkward silence.

His steady footsteps on the pavement were the only thing keeping him steady. He hardly noticed other people that he weaved past or the steady thrum of traffic just as arm’s length away from him.

Had Georgie changed much in the few years that they’d seen each other? Was she still growing out her hair? He wondered how much she could have possibly changed since university or if she’d stayed exactly the same. He had certainly changed.

With that thought, Jon almost halted in the middle of pedestrian traffic and only just managed to keep himself moving forward. He pushed one foot in front of the other, even pushing himself faster to compensate. He wasn’t sure if he’d slowed down but he really didn’t want to draw any attention to himself. So he picked up his pace, already breathing hard, as a new wave of worries came over him.

It wasn’t like he’d forgotten who he’d been in university. University had been a good era for him despite how it’d ended. He’d been given whole new vocabularies to define thoughts and emotions he’d had for so long that no one else had understood, and if they had they’d bullied him for them. Then he’d met Georgie and her friends. Georgie’s group, who’d all been unashamedly queer and proud of themselves, and maybe that was why they’d roped him in. Maybe they’d sensed something different about him, however that worked. All that mattered really was that he’d been given a safe place to learn to express himself in a way he’d never felt comfortable to do before. With their help, he’d found words to describe himself like asexual and he’d found himself comfortable in more feminine clothing despite how much his anxiety spiked when dressing that way in public. With his friends though, he’d been protected; he’d had people to support him. After he’d ruined all of those friendships, he lost that safe place, and those clothes sat in the bottom drawer of his dresser where he didn’t have to think about them. Where he could push all of those desires to the farthest corner of his mind and try to be any semblance of happy as he was, being normal and average as much as he could.

Georgie would ask about all of that. She’d ask about his three-piece suit and how his hair was cut short, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready for that conversation. He’d already been questioning whether he was ready to see her again. He really didn’t need this extra load of anxiety on his plate.

When he approached the restaurant, Jon wondered if Georgie would be waiting outside for him, or if she might be late and he’d have to wait for her, or maybe he’d have to go inside and try to look for her. All his questions were stomped out when he saw Georgie sitting at a table outside, and soon as she spotted him, she started waving. Jon didn’t pretend that he wasn’t grateful and let out a sigh of relief as his head cleared.

They exchanged standard greetings when Jon sat down like they hadn’t been best friends at one point.

“You look tired.”

Jon laughed out loud. After everything he’d listened to her say in his head on his way there, a comment on his poor sleeping habits was a great relief. “How are you?” he asked, stirring the conversation away from himself as much as possible.

“I’m good,” she said with a small smile. “How are you?”

“Fine,” he said simply and saw Georgie’s face shift into one that told him she wasn’t satisfied with his answer. He looked down to his menu, his eyes only glancing over the different pictures and lists or words before him. “I haven’t listened to your podcast, yet.” He definitely just turned the conversation against him, but it was the first thing he’d thought of to say that didn’t sound entirely idiotic.

“I figured,” she said and opened her menu, looking down to read it. “I expect a full review next time I see you.” She glanced up with a smirk before looking back down to her menu and Jon felt something in his chest loosen.

He wished he had Georgie’s charisma. Even now she was able to make him feel more at ease despite how she must have been feeling herself, and Jon just sat there and gave a small smile as he looked over the menu to make sure he picked something before they ordered. With their menus taken away, Jon no longer had something to occupy his time while he decided the least awful thing to say to try to spark conversation.

“So,” he started, almost choking on his words. “Is your podcast your full-time job?”

Georgie nodded. “Yeah. It took me a while to get to where I am, but now I do it full time and it’s great! I get to make a living by talking about spooky shit! What about you?” She leaned back in her chair, her fingers drumming on the edge of the table. “What are you doing? Working in some dusty library?”

Jon glanced at his suit, thinking she was referencing his business attire. “Um, kind of. I’m an archivist at The Magnus Institute.”

Her mouth dropped open. “No. Seriously? I’ve heard stories about that place.”

Jon shrugged. “I’ve been working there for a few years now.” He clasped his hands together on the tabletop and focused on them.

“What’s it like?”

He scoffed. “A mess.” He glanced up and saw Georgie leaning forward on the table, obviously waiting for him to continue and having no mind to save him again. He found himself biting the inside of his lip, the pain helping to keep him in the present moment, but he didn’t know what to say. Maybe Georgie  _ had _ forgiven him but even if she did, he couldn’t forgive himself. He couldn’t just walk past how he’d just walked away from an argument that had lost him his best friend, had cost him all of the identity he’d spent all that time developing that was as all as good as gone as far as he was concerned.

He untangled his fingers and wiped them off on his pants, keeping them there under the table where his fidgeting couldn’t be seen.

“I’m sorry about everything Georgie. It was completely my fault and I shouldn’t have just stormed off and I definitely shouldn’t have taken this long to say sorry and I don’t know if you even want to see me again but I’m grateful for your part in my life and I always have been. You taught me so much and introduced me to so much that helped and changed me for the better and I just threw it all away.” He stopped and cut his eye contact with Georgie to fill his lungs with air and slowly breathe out, with it, coming all the tension in his chest that he’d been feeling for the past few days, the same tension that had been there for years.

“Look,” Georgie started “Actually look at me, Jon.”

He looked up, expecting her to be upset, but she just looked at him with steady eyes. Eyes that weren’t aggressive, weren’t upset.

“I forgive you,” she said, and she spoke the words clearly and without fault like she truly meant them. “I’m not saying you weren’t in the wrong, because you were. I am saying that I accept your apology and I forgive you, and I’m giving you permission to forgive yourself.”

Jon didn’t speak for a long moment, but he felt the thickness in his throat start to drain away. He kind of wanted to excuse himself and go to the bathroom in case he started to tear up. Instead, his voice came out quieter than he meant it to. “Thank you.”

Georgie reached out, laying her arm on the table with her hand open palm-up. Jon put his hand in hers without saying a word, meeting her halfway across the table.

“Stop putting yourself down so much. It’s exhausting having to get you back on your feet.”

“Sorry.”

“Nope. No more sorries. You’ve run out of sorries for today.”

Jon gave her a look but couldn’t help the smile that came across his face as he remembered the old rules from university. “How many sorries do I get?”

“No more.”

Jon scoffed as they each pulled their hands back and their food was delivered to them. They started eating over conversation, and Jon was afraid that the conversation would dry up and they’d be left in thick silence at their table, but somehow, they didn’t stop talking. They talked about their careers and how even though Georgie was blessed with being her own boss, that meant she also had to deal with everything else  _ by _ herself. Jon told her about his recent makeup with Tim and how they’d bonded over mutual dislike for their boss, Elias. They talked about older times and laughed at old memories that really weren’t that old, and afterward, Jon didn’t want to leave to go back to work, and maybe Georgie noticed him glancing at the time on his phone. Georgie just stood up and insisted that she walk Jon back, and Jon was so glad that she was clearly filled with the social competence that he was sorely lacking.

They walked back together while they continued talking with each other as their conversation flitted from topic to topic, talking about work and then suddenly remembering mischief they’d gotten into during university. There were patches of quiet between them, but Jon tried to remind himself to enjoy them instead of letting his anxiety take over. He was with Georgie, and they were talking together like old friends should. They didn’t need to fill the space with words to enjoy each other's company, and Jon consistently was reminding himself of that.

Jon spotted the Institute in the near distance and something in his chest fell at the thought of not being able to spend the rest of the afternoon with Georgie. They stopped at the steps to the front doors and Jon turned to face his friend. “This is it.”

Georgie looked up at the building, looking like she was appraising the building for all the talk she’d heard or read about it. She looked back to him with a smile, though it seemed to be compensating for something else. “I just have a question and then I’ll let you go.”

“All right. What is it?”

“I just wanted to ask if your pronouns are still they/them.”

Jon felt his pulse quicken. He didn’t know how to answer that. Well, he did, but did he want to?

“You don’t have to answer or explain if you don’t want to. I just noticed that you’re dressed very masculinely and I wasn’t sure exactly.”

Jon looked away as he rubbed his arm, and then he spoke. “I try not to think about it if I’m honest. It’s just that-” He stopped, trying to think of how to explain without actually explaining. “I lost you and everyone else and then… I lost my confidence I guess. I-”

“Jon!” His head spun around to see Sasha and Tim walking in their direction. They must have been coming back from lunch as well.

Jon turned and looked back at Georgie. “No one else knows about any of that stuff,” he said urgently. “We can talk about it later I guess, but not in front of anyone else.”

“Of course, Jon. That’s absolutely fine, and you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, I just want to help.”

Jon stepped closer and hugged Georgie. Maybe she’d push him away, but during their lunch together, he’d realized how much he’d missed her and how much he’d been lacking in support, and so he hugged her. Then he felt her arms wrap around him as well, and she was hugging him back. Jon closed his eyes, relishing in this moment before he had to let her go and return inside with Sasha and Tim.


	5. Some Time With Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all of you are so amazing and I know Jon is just a character but as someone who is genderfluid, I’ve been so delighted to see all your comments about nonbinary Jon and having such support and high hopes for him to be comfortable with himself in his entirety and it’s so uplifting to read all of your comments. Thank you all so much.

Jon looked up towards the front of the Archives, straightening his posture. A few moments later he watched as Elias came down the stairs. He wasn’t sure how he’d known it was Elias coming downstairs. Maybe he recognized his footsteps. He really hoped that hadn’t been the case.

Tim and Jon had just been taking their break, just talking, and it was nice. They just mindlessly talked about work, and at some point, Tim opened one of the drawers in his desk and pulled out a small, dark purple bottle. Tim unscrewed the bottle and started painting his nails, perhaps out of boredom or lack of activity with his hands. Jon knew the feeling when he just needed to fidget and give his hands work to do. He tried not to stare but he was never that good at distracting himself. He looked away, tapping his fingers on the empty mug in his hands. He just wanted to be polite, but apparently looking away had been the wrong signal.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those people,” Tim said, his voice heavy.

Jon looked up just in time to see Tim look up at him before putting his attention back on the work in front of him and covering a little more of his nail with the glimmering, purple polish.

“No! I just um- I think it’s cool and I didn’t want to stare and um-” He looked at Tim and watched him expertly paint his nails with the tiny brush as he struggled to push out the right words. “It looks really nice.”

Tim stared at him for a moment before smirking. “I’m just joking with you, boss. Thanks.”

Jon watched Tim paint his nails for what felt like a while. It was calming to watch his nails transform from the solid, flesh color to a glimmering, dark purple. “You don’t normally come in with your nails painted.”

“No,” Tim responded without looking up, but Jon saw the hesitation in his hand as he went to dip the brush in the bottle again. “Not usually colors like this.” Tim didn’t speak for a moment and Jon found himself surprised. He’d never seen Tim nervous about talking about anything, but then again, Jon himself pushed back everything that wasn’t expected of the average man.

Tim continued, “I usually wear more flesh tones so it’s not noticeable but, you know,” he faltered for a moment. “I guess I’m just kinda tired of worrying about Elias giving a shit.”

Jon nodded. He didn’t want to end the conversation. He wanted to continue talking about these things. He’d been working with Tim for four years and only  _ now _ did he learn that maybe Jon wasn’t the only one that was a little different, but that’s when Elias came downstairs.

As Jon straightened up, Tim glanced around the room before looking curiously at Jon. “What is it?”

“Elias.”

“What? Where?”

“He’s coming downstairs right now.”

Jon saw Tim shove the small brush back into the polish bottle, but then he stopped and he just sat with his hands about to screw the bottle closed. After a moment, he then carefully took the lid, lifting the brush back out and continued to finish painting the nails on his left hand.

Jon spotted Elias coming down the stairs and shifted his body in his chair to face Tim more directly and desperately tried to think of something to talk about.

“So,” Tim started and Jon was relieved that at least one of them could think of something to talk about. “How long have you been keeping Georgie a secret?”

Jon’s head started overworking just slightly. “She’s never been a secret. She just wasn’t in my life anymore. Last week was the first I’ve even talked to her in years.”

Tim glanced up at him curiously. “Why’s that? You two seemed like good friends.”

“We were- are now. I just-” Jon looked down to his empty mug, reminding himself of his lack of casual time spenders to give him a few seconds to plan his words. He remembered what Sasha had said about Tim not liking to be left out of the loop, and tried to clear his mind a little with a quick breath. “We went to university together. She was my best friend and we dated for a while.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Was it really that hard to believe that he’d had a romantic partner? “But, I messed it all up and we didn’t part on good terms. I’ve just- I’ve been trying to do better and Georgie is something that I hadn’t dealt with, yet, I hadn’t apologized to. Fortunately for me, she’s a better person than I’ll ever be.”

“Give yourself more credit.” Tim had finished his left-hand nails and was now giving Jon his full attention. “Look, we all see you trying despite how much of a prick Elias is,” he said, raising his voice significantly from a quiet sound to a shout.

Jon glanced up and saw Elias just a few meters away. He didn’t look pleased.

“Hello to you too, Tim,” Elias said as a way of greeting once he reached them. “I’d appreciate it if my employees didn’t insult me behind my back.”

“I’m not behind your back,” Tim replied, leaning back in his chair.

“I wasn’t talking about just now.” Elias was silent for a moment like he was purposely giving them time to process what he’d said. “And how are you, Jon?”

“I’m fine,” he said and nothing more, and neither did Tim.

“Well,” Elias started in the midst of their silence. “I just came down to see how my Archivist is doing, but I won’t keep you both from your work,” he said with a smile that Jon really didn’t trust.

“We’re on break,” Tim replied.

“Then I expect that you will both get to work afterward.” Then he left with the same smile on his face.

Once Elias was out of ear shit, Tim turned to Jon. “How’d you know he was coming?” Tim asked.

Jon opened his mouth to reply but stopped when he thought about it. How had he known? He’d just… known he was coming. “I don’t know.”

Tim stared at him for a moment as if he were analyzing him and it felt like it lasted longer than it probably did. “Well,” he said finally, shaking the intensive stare for something more playful and normal. “Got any other secrets you’d like to share before Elias interrupted?”

Jon ground his teeth, keeping his mouth clamped shut. Tim didn’t mean that he couldn’t. A part of Jon wondered if maybe he’d overheard him talking to Georgie the other day when she’d asked him about his pronouns. He looked at Tim and could see that he knew something. Was there anything else that he could be referencing?

“Depends on what you’re referencing,” he said finally.

Tim let out a deep exhale. “I know something happened in your office two weeks ago. The thing is, everyone in these archives know what happened except me. You’re keeping me in the dark and Sasha and Martin won’t budge and I don’t like it. So what happened?”

Jon almost sighed with relief. He thought he’d be okay telling Tim what had happened. He could tell Tim. He gripped the empty in his hands tighter, only looking directly at Tim occasionally as he started talking.

“I wasn’t doing great. You probably know that already, but I wasn’t. I didn’t know how to do this job, I wasn’t prepared.” Jon laughed. “Hell, I don’t even have the necessary degrees to have this job, but Elias gave it to me and I couldn’t say, or at least I didn’t say no, though I don’t know if he would’ve let even if I’d wanted to.” Jon inhaled deeply and slowly let it all out before continuing, trying to focus on retelling it all. “It got to be too much eventually. I couldn’t do it. So, I went to Elias and told him so, told him that Sasha should be Head Archivist, not me. He didn’t take that very well and sent me away, and I tried again. I tried and eventually… eventually, I broke down, and that’s what Sasha and Martin walked into.”

“Oh.”

Jon looked up at Tim and was surprised when Tim was looking away. Jon bit his lip. Was that what Tim had expected? What had he been thinking had happened?

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I made Martin and Sasha promise not to say anything and, well, because, I haven’t had any real friends in a long time.” At that, Tim looked up at Jon, and Jon tried not to look away. This felt important.

“I lost all my friends over something I did and it’s- well it’s been a long time since I’ve broken down in front of people.”

Tim was quiet for a moment before he nodded his head. “That’s understandable.” He kept his eyes trained with Jon’s, and Tim’s eyes were gentle then. “You’ve got friends here, now. Just remember that. Friends are there for each other, and we’re here for each other and that includes you, boss.”

Jon let himself smile and nodded. “Thank you, Tim. I really appreciate it.” and Tim smiled back at him.

* * *

“I swear, Jon, she’s actual royalty. She’s just a fucking queen.”

Jon just shook his head gently as he listened to Georgie’s rant about how gorgeous this acquaintance of hers was. “I doubt she’s actual royalty.”

“Her last name  _ is  _ King, so obviously there’s some bloodline there.”

Jon didn’t admit out loud how possible it was with the myriad of dethroned rulers in Britain’s history. He was sure that she knew that as well, but putting it out into the air would’ve just given her more fuel.

“Why don’t you just, I don’t know, ask her over to be on your podcast?”

“How dull would that be?” she exclaimed. “Hi, I think you’re really interesting and absolutely gorgeous. Wanna guest host on my podcast?” Despite her objection to his suggestion, Jon watched the gears turn in her head as she contemplated the very idea.

“You’re getting close to one hundred episodes, right? Have her on then.”  
“Hm,” she pondered for a moment. “Maybe.” Then she suddenly looked up. “So you _have_ been listening to my podcast!” she exclaimed with a wide smile on her face.

Jon nodded as he pet The Admiral sitting on his lap. “I’ve been catching up.” What he didn’t tell her was that it was nice to hear a friend's voice while he was working on organizing files in the back by himself, or when he stared at his bedroom wall in the long nights trying to sleep. “I think it’s interesting,” he said, starting his review. “The stories sent in from your listeners are especially interesting, how you analyze them and pick them apart. That doesn’t change the fact that you’re still as gullible as ever.”

Georgie scoffed. “This, coming from the person who works at the Magnus Institute.”

“The Magnus Institute researches the weird,” Jon insisted. “Most stories are just over-reactions and wild imaginations. There are a few that have some slightly unexplainable points, but other than that, most of it's just skittish ramblings.”

Georgie slouched back against the couch. “And I was just about to invite you to go ghost hunting with me.” Jon raised his brows at her and got a laugh out of her.

The Admiral stretched his legs and readjusted his head on Jon’s lap. When he settled back down to close his eyes, Jon continued stroking his soft fur along his back.

“So how is work going?” Georgie asked.

“It’s fine,” Jon responded without even thinking.

Georgie didn’t say anything after that, and when Jon looked at her, she looked as if she had words caught in her throat like she was deciding whether to let them out or not.

“What is it?” he asked.

Georgie sat up without a word and situated herself to face Jon directly. She took a deep breath and let it out just as quickly. “I just want to talk to you and we’re friends and I’m worried about you.”

Jon wasn’t sure to feel happy that she cared about him or anxious about what she was worried about. So his mind decided to just send both of those emotions running through his body.

“I know we’ve only reconnected for a week or two, but you’re so quiet, and I know that a few years can change a person, but you’re almost a different person entirely. You’re so quiet and anxious and I know you have trouble making friends but I also _know_ that it has something to do with you, with how you present yourself. I see how anxious you are and I know you know.  
Jon was looking down at The Admiral, just holding him for comfort. He’d forgotten how precarious keeping secrets was with someone who actually knew you, knew who you were.

“I know you’re not comfortable with all of this right now, especially not at work, but I’m here for you. Anything you need, I’m here for you.”

It wasn’t that Jon didn’t believe her. He knew that she meant it and he hoped that she knew that he was there for her as well, but was he ready for the transformation back? Was he ready to take on the world again? He just wanted to pull his knees up to his chest and hold The Admiral under his face, and maybe he wouldn’t have to deal with this for a few more minutes.

“I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“That’s okay,” she said. “That’s absolutely all right. When you are ready, I’m right here, and even if that’s not for years to come, I’m right here.” She gave him a light punch in his arm. “We’re friends, you got it? Friends care for each other.”


	6. A New Friend? Perhaps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elias has more work for Jon and Georgie's crush shows up at the Institute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a while to get out because I've been stressy and depressy, but thank you all SO MUCH for all of the kind and wonderful comments; they help me out so much.

A few days passed and everything was on Jon’s mind. His identity, his friends, and work seemed to get away from him, and maybe Elias noticed. The next week, Elias came down to his office and gave him a list. He didn’t say much other than ‘ _ how are you doing’ _ and ‘ _ get to work’ _ , but he’d dropped a single paper on his desk that managed to be heavier than all the books in his office together. In Elias’ handwriting was a bulleted list of tasks for Jon. Some of them were already on his plate, but others were new. Organizing the artifact room and making print-outs for each item, taking notes on what had been done at the end of each day and what should be done the next, and meaningless tasks that, quite frankly, just went over Jon’s head.

Jon left his office, staring at this list from Elias, to find Sasha, Tim, and Martin at their desks. Elias was halfway to the staircase and Jon found himself walking towards Martin’s desk specifically.

Martin looked up from his work. “Do you need help, Jon?”

“Yes,” he replied, stopping in front of him. “Elias gave me-”

“Oh, and Jon,” Elias shouted across the room. Jon turned to face him and Elias had the same pleasant look on his face. “I’m entrusting that list to be done by  _ you _ . As the Archivist you do need some training.” He turned away and continued, up the stairs and to his office probably.

_ What? _ Jon looked back to the list in his hands. He didn’t really read the list, but the number of lines made his head ache.  _ Now Elias says I need training? _

“Did Elias just say that you need training?” Sasha asked.

Jon looked over to Sasha, sitting at her desk, his fingers still poised at her keyboard ready to type. She looked as confused as Jon felt. “Yes. He gave me a list.”

“What is it?” Martin asked.

“Just- It’s mostly things we already do: record statements, file them, organize.”

“But?” came Tim’s voice. Tim had abandoned his work completely, spinning around in his office chair to look at Jon.

“But, now he wants us-  _ me _ , I guess, to start organizing the artifact room and start researching all the items.”

“So, you’re not working on statements anymore?” Martin asked.

“No.” Jon shook his head. “Elias said he wants me to do everything we've been doing and more now.”

“That’s rubbish,” Tim replied.

“We’ll help you with that,” Sasha said with a reassuring smile.

Jon felt his teeth grind together subconsciously. “Elias was very specific about doing this all myself.”

Tim was quick to reply. “Fuck Elias and his mysterious happenings around his place. It’ll get down easier and quicker with all of us working together.”

“Exactly,” Martin added. “Besides, it’s not like Elias is down here all the time.”

Jon let a small smile slip past him. The three of them were his assistants, yes, but they were his friends now as well. They were his friends. He had friends.

* * *

**Georgie:** SHE SAID YES

**Jon:** Melanie?

**Georgie:** WHO ELSE?  
**Georgie:** I ASKED IF SHED LIKE TO BE ON THE 100 EPISODE AND SHE SAID YES

**Jon:** That’s great!!!

Jon looked up at a knock on his door. In the open doorway was a woman with short, dyed hair. She wore a nice denim jacket over a flannel, and though her knock had been hesitant, she didn’t seem lost or confused at all.

“Hi, I’m looking for the Head Archivist? Someone named Sasha said he’d be in here.”

Jon put his phone down quickly, stood up, and walked around his desk to greet her. “That’s me. I’m Jonathan Sims. I assume you’re here to give a statement.”

She looked almost conflicted (ashamed?) of her answer, but she nodded. “Yes.”

Jon directed her to a seat and closed the door before he sat back down in his own chair. He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a blank tape and his tape recorder. “What’s your name?” he asked, uncapping a marker to label the tape.

“Melanie King.”

Jon stopped and looked up at the woman sitting across his desk from him.

“What?”

“You wouldn’t happen to host a show called  _ Ghost Hunt UK _ , would you?”

“So you’ve heard of me?” she asked, leaning back in her chair.

Jon suppressed a small laugh. “You could say that.” He thought about how he could really embarrass Georgie right now. “I have a friend who really enjoys your work.”

Melanie smiled. “It’s nice to be appreciated.”

Jon capped his marker and put it away. “She’s really into that stuff; gullible if you ask me. She runs a podcast called  _ What the Ghost _ .”

Melanie stopped and turned her head slightly. “You don’t mean Georgie Barker, do you?”

“The very one,” Jon said with a nod of his head.

“You’re friends?”

“Hard to believe, I know.”

“Wait.” She leaned forward in her chair. “You're her Jon? Jon Sims?”

A spike of anxiety ran through Jon. What had Georgie said about him? She and Melanie must have been friends at least. How much did Georgie talk about him? “Yes.”

Melanie looked like she had something to say, but she closed her mouth and the small room was quiet for a moment before she spoke. “I thought you’d be taller.”

Jon felt his blood heat up a bit and fought it down. “Yes, well, we can’t all have stilts for legs.”

She laughed and Jon managed a smile. What kind of coincidence was it that Melanie had walked into his archives to give a statement? How about that.

Melanie gave her statement. She’d recounted her break-in to Cambridge Medical Hospital with her team and how she’d witnessed strange happenings regarding her substitute sound engineer, Sarah Baldwin. Jon wasn’t sure he really believed something had actually happened, at least he couldn’t be sure until he completed research into her statement. It had been dark, though, and Melanie had been in an environment where she’d expected things of the paranormal to happen. He almost said that, but then he didn’t. Most people didn’t react well when he told them what he really thought about their encounters.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” she said.

Jon looked up. Melanie had leaned back in her chair after finishing her statement and had her arms folded over her chest. She looked as if she were readying herself to defend her story.

Jon cleared his throat. “I try not to make any decisions on what I think of statements until I finish researching their stories.”

She nodded. She seemed satisfied enough with that answer, and Jon internally sighed a bit. “Well, do you have any questions for me.”

“Not at the moment, but is there a number or email I can reach you at in case there are in the future?”

“Yes.”

Jon pulled some paper and a pen out of a drawer from his desk and handed them to her, and in a second they back in his hands with a number scribbled across the white sheet. Melanie didn’t move to stand or leave Jon’s office after that, though her hands now rested on the arms of the chair she sat in. She stared at Jon like she was debating whether to say something or not, and it made Jon’s anxiety spike.

“Do you have a question?” Jon asked.

“More of a personal question actually.”

Jon simply nodded, his mind too wrapped up with his mounting, spinning anxiety to imagine what she was thinking. A part of him wondered if she was going to question his appearance or his pronouns, but that was impossible. He still dressed the same way he’d dressed to work for four years, however, that thought didn’t go away.

“Does Georgie like flowers?”

She spit the question out so fast that Jon almost didn’t hear it.  _ Does Georgie like flowers? _ Jon just stared at her for a moment as his anxiety slowly began dying down, replaced with confusion.

“Yeah,” he said slowly “but not lilies or delicate flowers.” Melanie wasn’t looking at him anymore, and Jon noticed that her ears were quickly turning red.

“So… roses would be okay?” she said, but it sounded hypothetical like she was only two percent sure of herself and ended up sounding more like a question than a statement.

Jon tried to suppress the smile he felt on his face. “Yes.”

Melanie suddenly looked up, saw his smile, and suddenly her ears were bright red. “Please don’t say anything. I’m absolute rubbish and she just invited me to be on her podcast and I’m trying to figure something out-” She kept rambling as Jon’s smile grew and he suppressed a laugh that slowed her down until she stopped.

“I promise I won’t say a word,” he told her with a smile.

She gave a nervous smile of her own. “Thanks.”

Jon wasn’t sure what prompted him to keep talking, but suddenly he was asking her a question of his own. “Do you have a plan to ask her out?”

“I was thinking of asking her out to coffee?” she said, but again, it came out as more of a question. “Maybe play some music and ask her out with flowers even though that’s ridiculously romantic and I’m only asking her out?”

Jon was hardly aware of himself when he leaned forward in his chair, leaning forward on his arms as they lay on his desk. “What kind of music do you listen to?”

* * *

**Jon:** You’ll never guess who just gave a statement

**Georgie:** who?   


**Jon:** Melanie king

**Georgie:** NO YOURE JOT SERIOUS  
**Georgie:** UOURE FUCKING KIDDING ME

**Jon:** She just left

**Georgie:** Did you talk to her???  
**Georgie:** you better not have told her anything

**Jon:** I did take her statement

**Georgie:** other than that you twat

**Jon:** relax, we just talked a little bit  
**Jon:** she’s got good taste in music

**Georgie:** oh no  
**Georgie:** Oh No

Jon laughed. He’d actually enjoyed speaking to Melanie, and it’d ended with them exchanging phone numbers (though she’d already given him hers incase he had questions about her statement). Was it really this easy to make friends with people? Was that what had just happened? Had he been faking it this whole time?

There was a light knock on his door and when he looked up, there was Martin with a steaming mug of tea, smiling with gentle eyes behind his glasses. Jon put his phone down on his desk. He could still feel his smile on his face and he wasn’t sure if Martin’s presence had something to do with that or not.

“Sorry,” he told Martin “I was responding to a friend.”  
“It’s fine, Jon. It’s nice to hear you laugh,” Martin replied as he came in. “It’s nice to see you smile more.”

Jon stared at him for what had to have been just a few seconds, but it felt longer. He looked away from Martin’s smiling face. “Well… It’s nice to see you smile as well.” He carefully looked back up at Martin and it could have just been wishful thinking when Jon thought Martin’s cheeks were glowing just a bit.

“I made you some tea.” Martin placed the mug down on Jon’s desk and Jon recognized the same scent that came into his office every day along with Martin.

“Thank you.” His phone started buzzing with text alerts as Jon took a tentative sip.

“I’ll let you get back,” Martin said, and left Jon’s office.

**Georgie:** I dont think I can handle 2 emos in my life  
**Georgie:** jonathan you’ve infected my crush  
**Georgie:** jon?  
**Georgie:** jon I will come to your work   
**Georgie:** im not scared of your freaky boss and you know it

**Jon:** christ Georgie  
**Jon:** Martin brought tea. Relax

**Georgie:** dont ditch me for your crush

**Jon:** I do not have a crush on Martin  
**Jon:** and I thought we agreed that I wouldn’t be ditching anyone again

**Georgie:** you’re right  
**Georgie:** but shut up. You have a crush on at least one of your coworkers and there’s no possible way you dont with the way you talk about them

**Jon:** I do not  
**Jon:** I thought you wanted to talk about melanie

**Georgie:** I do. I do very much. But you bottle up your feelings and try to hide them from everyone else so often that it’s very important to me that you learn to express yourself.

**Jon:** Is this your way and reminding me of my promise to go shopping with you?

**Georgie:** no but thank you for reminding me

**Jon:** christ

**Georgie:** seriously tho, what did you and Melanie talk about?

Jon was about to reply ‘nothing important’, but then thought better of it.

**Jon:** music

**Georgie:** omg  
**Georgie:** I cant believe you


	7. Their Archives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon comes to terms with their gender and comes out to both themself and Georgie.

The more time passed, the more often Jon found himself thinking about gender and his identity and- all of that stuff. 

Jon didn’t work on the weekends and normally he’d spend the two days working on stuff he’d bring home anyway. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done that this time. It’s just that his mind was on other things.

Weeks had passed and Jon somehow managed to be barely keeping up with work, though when he added in everything that Gertrude had left behind, it didn’t seem like he’d been accomplishing much. Maybe he hadn’t really accomplished that much. He really relied on Sasha, Martin, and Tim for help. Sometimes when he let himself think about it too much, he was a little astonished that he had the position he was in.

There had to be some reason that Elias had passed by Sasha. He could be sexist; that’s certainly what Tim thought. Gertrude had been Head Archivist for  _ years _ though. Or maybe Elias was just being misogynistic and Jon didn’t see it as clearly because he’d been raised male.

There it was again.

He was a man, wasn’t he? Then why did it feel so bad? His chest would contract and he felt as if the word, used in reference towards himself, gave this sort of sick feeling like it tasted bad. He- they?- had identified as non-binary in university. He remembered all the pretty patterns and light clothing he wore. Why had they stopped?

Jon dug around in the bottom drawer of his dresser until they’d found a white, frilly shirt and a long skirt that hadn’t seen the light of day in years. He changed his clothing and felt both happy and excited and horribly anxious.

What if they looked bad in the clothes they hadn’t worn in over four years? What if they didn’t actually like it anymore and he had just been faking all this turmoil he’d been feeling inside himself?

He suddenly stopped while pushing his arm through his sleeve. He’d been calling himself they just now. He hadn’t even really been thinking about it. He’d just done it.

Jon finished putting on his shirt and just quietly thought for a minute in the silence of his- their flat.

_ Jon is here. Their office is over there. _

_ They prefer their tea with milk. _

_ Jon said they couldn’t come. _

_ They like cats. _

_ They’re my friend. _

Jon hardly noticed how he was smiling. He felt his heart rush and the pure excitement in his chest when he thought of all the different scenarios and replaced the pronoun for himself with they and them and their. It was comfortable.

Jon looked up and saw the reflection in the mirror. Jon’s eyes took in everything from the creases in the shirt to the airy, comfort of the skirt, and couldn’t help the smile.

They loved it.

There was a knock on their door and Jon already knew that it was Georgie. He ran out of his bedroom to the door and pulled it open with a brimming grin on their face. Georgie took one look at them and smiled.

“Come on! Come inside!”

Georgie came inside and Jon closed the door behind her.

Jon turned around as Georgie opened her mouth to speak, but they started rattling off first. “I want to go by they/them pronouns now.” They were running on pure adrenaline at the moment. They could’ve walked out into the world in their current outfit and they wouldn’t have batted an eye at anyone who’d stare at them. “It just feels right and he/him just felt gross and didn’t fit and you were right! I did need time to figure it out, but I really like these clothes and I just- I want to be happy again.”

Jon saw Georgie’s eyes crinkle right before she threw out her arms and hugged Jon. Their arms wrapped around Georgie without a second thought and all Jon could think of was how safe they felt at that moment. Their best friend, hugging them tighter than they’d ever been held before, in clothes they loved and knowing who they were, finally.

She pulled back and her hands came to rest on Jon’s shoulders with a wide smile on her face. “I’m so proud of you,” she said, “and I will always love and support you.” Jon hugged her again and they didn’t want that moment to end.

Shopping with Georgie had been anxiety-driven. As much as Georgie was shopping for herself, Jon quickly realized that she’d dragged them out to give Jon more of a chance to look at the clothing he’d never have the courage to browse through by themself. He didn’t browse all that much anyway. While Georgie looked through shirts and trousers, finding something that would impress Melanie she said (which Jon had no hopes of understanding).

“Why don’t you just wear what you usually wear and be yourself?” they asked.

Georgie stopped looking through the button-up shirts she’s been perusing to stare at Jon as if they’d suddenly grown a third eye. “You expect me to wear  _ this _ ,” she said while motioning to her current outfit “on a first date?”

Georgie wasn’t the most feminine woman out there. Her casual look hadn’t changed much since university; typically her jacket over a t-shirt and either jeans or nicer trousers. Her curly hair was almost always tied back. She always seemed very casual and maintained an at-ease sort of aura about her, but Jon knew that she cleaned up nice. She’d put on a suit and bowtie and she was ready to take England by force.

“It’s a date then?” Jon asked.

Georgie opened her mouth to respond but started stammering while Jon couldn’t help laughing.

Sometimes Jon found himself staring at some of the clothing across the small store in the women’s section. He’d turn his gaze somewhere else when he realized what he was doing and would hope no one had caught him staring.

At the register, an older woman checked Georgie out. Her hair had silvered in age and she wore thin glasses attached to a decorative string around her neck.

“Helping your boyfriend shop for clothes?” she asked with a smile.

“Actually, these are for me,” Georgie responded with just as much of a smile.

Jon expected the old woman’s disposition to change, for his smile to vanish, but her smile remained and was truthful even though Jon didn’t feel great themself.

“You enjoy your clothes, Miss,” she said, and they were on their way.

They were just walking back outside into the cold when Jon felt a hard nudge in their arm. “Ow.”

“You could’ve picked out some clothes, too.”

Jon put their hands in their pockets. “You’re assuming I’m brave enough to wear what I want in public.”

“You’ll get there.” Her voice held all the optimism that Jon wished that they had.

Jon glanced down at their outfit as they walked with Georgie down the pavement and found themself grinding their teeth. Besides their jacket, they’d just put on a simple button-up shirt tucked into some jeans- trousers they hadn’t worn in a while. Would that woman have still called them he if they’d been wearing a skirt? Would she have called them she? Was that better than he? She didn’t feel all the great either.

“Remember Jon,” Georgie said “You’ve got time. You don’t need to have this all figured out now or next week or even in ten years.” She looked over at them with a reassuring smile that they’d definitely needed at that moment. “You’ve got time.”

Jon walked into work Monday morning wearing what they usually wore. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Somewhere along the line, they’d stopped putting as much effort into their appearance than they had months ago when they’d gotten promoted. Now, it was usually just a rumpled shirt from the bottom of their closet and a sweater vest or other of some kind since winter had started abruptly that November. They didn’t bother looking in mirrors much, but they did notice how their hair was starting to grow out, and they felt exhilarated whenever they realized that.

Was growing their hair out a good idea? Would it help them transition again? What would everyone else think about it?

Jon walked into the Archives and saw Sasha organizing some papers spread out over a table. There was a stapler and a small container of paperclips and she was humming. She seemed happy- just, happy.

“Good morning, Sasha.”

She briefly interrupted her song to look up with a wide smile. “Morning, Jon.”

“Did you have a good weekend?”

She just beamed. “I did. Tim and I went on a date.”

“Finally.” Sasha threw a paperclip at them but she hadn’t stopped smiling. “You actually going to stay together this time?”

Her smile was tainted for a moment, almost apologetic. “Tim and I are different. I was confused at first about him, but you know, I love him.”

Jon was smiling at Sasha. They were happy for the both of them. They’d been on and off for a while and Jon did their best to just stay out of it. They didn’t know shite about relationships, romantic or platonic, and he hardly knew how they suddenly found themselves with a slew of friends.

As long as Tim and Sasha were happy together, that’s all that really mattered. “I’m happy for you both,” they said with a smile.

“Thank you, Jon.”

She went back to her stapling and Jon hesitated. Could they just tell Sasha what they’d decided about their gender? Would it be okay to just come out and say it? She was their friend, they knew that but what if she found it confusing or weird?

Instead of saying anything, Jon turned away and went into their office where they hung up their coat and bag before sitting down with a heavy sigh and getting to work.

* * *

“No, you may not  _ borrow _ a Leitner.”

Jon should’ve been in the Artifact Room with Tim, taking stock of their current inventory. They didn’t like the idea of anyone being in there alone for too long. Jon wasn’t sure why Elias suddenly wanted a detailed inventory of the entire room that seemed to go on for ages, but they didn’t like it.

He wasn’t in there helping Tim, though, because someone from upstairs had run down to their archives to insist that he be allowed to read one of the leitner books they may or may not have had stashed somewhere in the vast reaches of the artifact room.

“Come on, Jon. Just a few minutes and I’ll give it back.”

Jon stared at the man in front of them with their arms folded over their chest. “I said no.” They really didn’t know this person (whoever they were) at all, but he said he worked upstairs in research, though apparently he was pretty new. “Those books are kept down here for a reason. I know you’re new here-”

“I’ve been working here for two months.”

“As I said,” Jon continued before they’d been interrupted. “They’re down here for a reason and there are plenty of statements you can read for evidence of that.”

This man was blonde and taller than Jon and they might’ve been similar ages, but Jon was higher up and had more experience in everything this guy from research seemed to be lacking.

“Look, five minutes. That’s all I’m asking,” he insisted.

“No,” Jon said firmly for perhaps the dozenth time. “You’ve got plenty of books up there to read and the last thing someone like you needs is a Leitner further destroying your life.”

“Someone like me? What does that mean?” he started yelling. He wasn’t really yelling, but in the quiet of the archives, it sure sounded like it. “You can’t be much older than me! How come you get to decide what goes in and out of that room?”

“Because I’m the Head Archivist,” Jon said with a stern voice. “My archives, my rules.”

The guy who was nameless to Jon stepped back with a sour expression on his face. “Technically it’s Elias’ archives, and how did you even become Head Archivist? Everyone says you’ve only worked here for four years!”

“Five, actually, and if you have a problem with me, why don’t you take it up to Elias?”

He stared at them for a heated moment before turning around and heading right back the way he’d come, through the archives and upstairs.

Jon let out a heavy breath. They turned back around to the door of the artifact room to see Tim leaning on the door jam, eyes fixed on them.

“ _ Your _ archives, huh?”

Jon felt their blood get warm in their ears but wasn’t sure why while he fought it back down.

_ Stop it. There’s no reason to react that way. It was just a simple remark, shut up. _

Jon ended up shrugging their shoulders while looking away. “The only time Elias comes down here is to yell at someone, so yeah. I think it is mine.”

Tim smirked. “Well, boss. We've still got plenty of work to do.”

Jon let out a deep breath before filling his lungs with fresh air (or as fresh as you could get in the basement of a hundred-year-old building at least) and followed Tim back into the artifact room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Been a hot minute since I've seen you! This chapter is a bit short BUT there might be a Martin POV coming next chapter or very soon.
> 
> I hope you all liked this chapter!


	8. How Cool Would it Be if Jon & Tim Talked About Their Feelings?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon tries to come out to Sasha but after an altercation with Tim, Martin tries to comfort Jon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst? In this fic?

You wouldn’t know that Tim and Sasha had dated before, that they’d broken up, that they had  _ finally _ worked through their issues and communicated properly before they got back together again. Sasha liked to keep work professional when possible. Tim was a flirt but he knew how to respect others and he knew how to appreciate people in ways that would be felt. Sometimes he sat with Martin during their lunch break if he didn’t already have plans with Sasha or they didn’t take a spontaneous team lunch break. Martin always loved the company. He didn’t often admit it to himself, but he felt alone a lot of the time. He had a small flat where he lived alone and worked in what amounted to an old, dusty, occult library.

Martin knew that Tim, Jon, and Sasha had all known each other before they’d been moved to the archives, so Martin was the odd one out sometimes, and that wasn’t the half of his troubles.

“Have you noticed Jon lately?”

Martin looked at Tim across the table from him while they ate their lunch. Well, Jon wasn’t exactly something that Martin tended to miss, but he nodded along. “He’s been more anxious than usual.”

“I think he’s hiding something,” Tim stated.

Martin rolled his eyes. “You always think he’s hiding something.”

“Because he is!”

Martin thought about Jon and had to make an effort not to let his mind float away. Jon had gone off with Sasha somewhere in the back of the archives to work on something Martin hadn’t caught. “He’ll tell us when he’s ready,” Martin decided on saying.

Tim didn’t seem convinced and just finished his food in silence.

Martin just stared at Tim for a moment and took a deep sigh. “We all have things that we don’t advertise. You and I both know that.”

“And some of us hide our massive crushes on our boss better than others,” Tim said.

Martin tried to ignore that statement, though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel his blood rise to his cheeks. “If you’re so worried about him keeping things from you, why don’t you just go ask him yourself?”

Tim stopped, pursing his lips. “You know what, that’s a good idea.” He stood up abruptly, his chair screeching loudly across the floor.

“Tim-”

Tim was out the door before Martin managed to say anything else.

Martin dropped his head into his hands. Why him? Him and his big mouth. He took a one, long sip from his tea and was up, on his feet, chasing after Tim.

***

Jon was standing in front of a bookcase, dusty volumes of varying shapes and colors filled the spaces where there weren’t boxes of folders and other books.

What were they doing?

Why were they here?

They’d been with Sasha to help her move some things-

“Jon?”

They turned around and found Sasha staring at them with wide eyes that were too concerned to be looking at them.

“What?”

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine.” They looked back to the bookcase and looked it up and down. “Was it something from these shelves you needed to move?” they asked.

“No,” she said slowly. “You just stopped talking and walked straight here.”

They didn’t remember that. “I must have dissociated for a moment,” they told her, trying to play it off. Hell if he knew what had actually happened but Sasha didn’t need to be worrying about them.

The two of them were in the back of the archives where mazes of shelves stored more than one hundred years’ worth of statements and research on each one, or at least the ones that had been looked into. It was quiet back there and it was just him- them and Sasha.

Jon turned to Sasha. He fidgeted with the cuff of his shirt, pulled over his hand. “Sasha, there’s something I want to tell you.”

“Okay,” she said, looking less concerned and more curious now as she always was. “What is it?”

Jon bit his- their- Christ. Why did they keep doing that?

They bit the inside of their lip. They’d practiced in their head even when they should’ve been working or focusing on something else. Sasha would be okay, wouldn’t she? Jon looked at her, his friend, and opened their mouth to speak just as they heard footsteps approaching.

“Tim, stop!” called Martin’s voice moments before he came into view right behind Tim.

Tim didn’t say hi, didn’t ask how he was or make any sort of greeting. He looked at Jon and said, “I want to know why you’ve been dancing around us since Monday like you’re about to vomit.” Jon held uncomfortable eye contact with Tim. 

Sasha started to speak. “Tim-”

“It’s okay,” Jon found themself saying. Jon had thought that maybe Tim would be a little easier to come out to. Tim obviously wasn’t hyper-masculine himself, especially since he’d started getting fed up with Elias, but now… Maybe Jon had been wrong.

“What is bothering you so much?”

“Tim,” Martin said louder, “He doesn’t have to spill his life to you.”

Tim’s stare was unshakable, but his voice was less demanding next. “Look, I think I speak for everyone when I say that we’ve been concerned about you and in order to help you, we need you to tell us what’s wrong and-”

“Well, maybe I don’t want to tell you!” Jon yelled.

Rip off the bandage. They’re all here anyway, so why not? That’s what they thought, but then another thought came over them that hadn’t come from fear. Jon’s hands curled into fists beside them (mostly to keep them from fidgeting) and they stared up at Tim. “It’s none of your goddamn business what’s wrong, Tim. I’m allowed to have a life, just like you and Sasha are allowed to have a life, just like Martin’s allowed to have a life. I’m allowed to have my  _ own _ life that isn’t constantly monitored by  _ you _ .”

Jon watched something shift in Tim’s face, and for a moment they almost regretted speaking so harshly, but they didn’t try to take their words back.

“It's my business because you're my friend!”

“Maybe I would’ve told you if you weren’t being a nosy prick about it!”

Tim was calmer with his next words, but Jon wasn’t. “I know that Elias is pushing a lot onto you and that it makes you anxious. I- we just want to make sure you’re all right and obviously there’s something wrong.”

“ _ We _ ?” Jon repeated. “Really, Tim? Because you’re the one that’s turning on me right now.”

Tim’s voice rose. “I’m trying to look out for you!”

“I’m not a child!” Jon shouted back. “I don’t go shoving my nose into your life whenever you and Sasha have another tiff, so don’t go shoving your nose into mine when  _ you think _ that I’m dealing with something, because guess what? I am! But that doesn’t mean you can force your way into the middle of it!”

Tim’s mouth opened to say something else but Jon didn’t care to hear it. They pushed past Tim and Martin and walked straight back to his office. He pushed the door closed harder than he meant to, and Jon flinched when the door slammed shut.

***

When Jon stormed off, Martin wanted to follow him, but he stayed where he was, staring after him before turning back to Sasha and Tim.

“I thought you two made up,” Sasha said, and it wasn’t a question.

“We did!” Tim said, starting to stammer “but I- I just-”

“You just what, Tim?” Sasha put her hands on her hips. She looked at Tim like a disappointed mother.

“I want to make sure that he’s okay, all right?”

“We  _ all  _ do, Tim, but only one of us is inserting ourselves into spaces he doesn’t want us.”

“What else am I supposed to do? Not ask if he’s okay?”

“You find a different way.”

They kept going back and forth, and Martin doubted that either of them noticed when he left.

The archives were basically the basement of the institute. It wasn’t monitored and the speakers in the ceiling hadn’t said anything since Martin’s first day. Martin heard a door slam closed and assumed that it was Jon. The door to Jon’s office wasn’t always closed, but when things got especially busy or Jon was really focused you could tell because his door would be closed. The only time Jon’s office door was guaranteed to be open was when he went outside to take a break. Sometimes Martin wished that he had his own office. The archives weren't a busy place, but sometimes there was a lot of movement and talking from the others.

Jon’s office door was closed as Martin had suspected it would be, and when he lightly knocked on it there was a quiet reply from inside from Jon. Martin slowly pushed open the door and stepped inside.

Jon sat on the floor with his legs folded under him and a messy pile of papers in his lap. There were four different, small piles on the floor in front of him that Jon would add to from the pile in his lap after looking at it over a moment. Jon looked up, but then looked back down to his papers. “Hi, Martin.”

“Hi Jon,” Martin said uncertainly. He stood there for a moment in awkward silence while the only noise was the shuffling of papers from Jon. “What are you doing?” Martin didn’t expect an immediate answer, but Jon spoke next as if nothing had just happened outside his office.

“I’m organizing statements that need processing by date.” He stopped for a moment and bit the corner of his lower lip. “It’s probably not doing much and I know you’re going to tell me that wouldn’t it be easier if I just did it statement by statement.”

“No,” Martin said before he stopped himself. “It helps to be organized,” he said with a small nod of his head, mostly because he didn’t know what else to do. “I mean, I have anxiety, and being organized helps my anxiety a little bit and helps it seem like there’s not as much work to do when really there’s a mountain of work that’s constantly being added. That’s actually how I usually start every day, by organizing everything and making a list of what I know I can accomplish in a day and I add onto it if I start to finish early, and-” Martin suddenly realized that he was rambling, again. “Sorry, I’m rambling.” Jon usually would’ve stopped him by now. Instead, Martin looked back at Jon with his hand anxiously behind his head to see Jon just gently staring up at him.

“No, it’s fine.” Jon looked away and pulled some of his hair over his ears. His hair wasn’t long, but Jon had been growing it out (or maybe he’d just forgotten to get it cut). “I don’t mind listening to you talk.”

“Really? Seemed like it used to bother you,” Martin managed, his chest feeling cramped and tight.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not though,” Jon argued. “It wasn’t okay of me to consistently cut you off when you were talking. I mean, I could have at least asked if I could get back to work politely.” Jon looked up to him and Martin saw the honesty in his eyes and face, but Jon also looked as if he was holding something back.

“Can I sit with you?”

Jon nodded. “Of course.” Jon immediately started moving his stacks of papers, making space for Martin next to him.

Martin sat down next to Jon with his back facing the wall. He was facing Jon despite how Jon still faced the door, but Martin didn’t mind. Sitting here with him was more than enough.

“Are you okay?” Martin asked. “I know that Tim’s tactics aren’t great but, he did have a point. You've seemed a lot more distracted the past few days.”

Jon didn’t respond for a really long time. It could’ve been just thirty seconds that Martin’s anxiety had processed as a longer time than it was, but Martin was trying desperately to think of other conversation topics to try to make Jon feel better when Jon finally spoke.

“I want to tell you something,” he said and then didn’t say anything else.

“Okay.” Martin tried to keep the anxiety out of his voice. It might have been nothing, but Jon sounded just as nervous as Martin felt and that only fed into his anxiety.

Jon sat with his head down, just staring at the concrete floor in front of him. He held his hands firmly in his lap with his white shirt wrung in his hands. Martin had the thought that Jon must have untucked his shirt from his pants, but then remembered noticing how Jon had walked in that day without his shirt tucked in.

“I want you to know that I’m still me and I’m still the same person,” Jon started.

Was Jon confessing something?

“It’s just that I’ve recently become more comfortable with myself again and, well I know we don’t really talk outside of work much but I think of you as my friend and I just… I want to be honest with you.”

Okay, this was really sounding like a coming-out speech.

Was Jon coming out to him?

Jon glanced up at Martin for only a second. “I’m transgender. Specifically non-binary. I don’t know if you know what that means, but it means that I’m not male or female and I hope this doesn’t change the way you think of me.”

Martin opened his mouth to speak as he thought of all the possible responses to Jon that would let him (they?) know that he supported him. Then he thought of what he’d wished other people would’ve said to him when he had first come out.

“You’re my friend too, Jon. I support you and I’ll do everything I can to make you feel comfortable here.” Jon looked up and turned to look at him and Martin smiled, and so did Jon. He seemed so relieved. Martin reached over and took one of Jon’s hands in his own despite the rushing in his chest. “We’re friends. You being more yourself would never change that.”

Jon was smiling so wide. Martin felt his grip on Martin’s hand between them, and Martin smiled while his heart raced.

“What are your pronouns?”

Jon beamed. “They/them. Um, I know it might be weird but-”

Martin interrupted Jon’s soon to be rambling. “It’s fine, Jon,” he said with a smile. “They’re your pronouns and you don’t have to explain yourself. I’m actually, well, I’m trans too.”

“Really?”

Martin was sure that Jon didn’t mean to sound as excited as he- they did, but it made Martin’s smile widen. “Yeah. I’m not non-binary, but yeah I transitioned and all that stuff.”

“That’s cool,” Jon said, and Martin suppressed a laugh. Jon had to be anxious because that was the simplest sentence he’d ever heard them say.


	9. Jon? Admitting Feelings?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> idk guys... i wrote this chapter over several days because of stress.
> 
> i hope you guys enjoy it.
> 
> **This chapter includes smoking.

_ That’s cool. _ He’d-  _ UGH! _ They’d really just said that. Martin had trusted them enough to come out to them as well and  _ that _ was their response. It had made Martin laugh, though. Maybe it had been the right thing to say. All Jon knew was that their pulse was still racing and his hand was still in Martin’s.

Jon and Martin just looked at each other for what seemed like a long moment and Jon felt his anxiety slowly dampen. Sitting with Martin- it was so comforting. Jon cursed at themself for not figuring this out sooner.

“Um-” Jon parted his gaze from Martin’s, but their hands were still clasped. “I actually have a question, since you’re trans as well. I was wondering if when you first came out if you kind of ever misgendered yourself… on accident?”

“Oh yeah,” Martin replied. “All the time.”

Jon looked back at him as the lump in his throat became manageable.

“The thing I realized was that it takes people a little while sometimes to adjust to your pronouns, and it takes you a while as well. I mean, you’ve been living with this certain name and certain pronouns for your whole life and now you’re trying to switch on a dime, so it takes time and practice a little.”

Jon nodded. “That makes sense.”

Martin squeezed Jon’s hand. “If you ever need any help- not just with trans stuff though I’d be more than happy to talk to about that!”

Jon smirked as Martin went on. They often thought that perhaps Martin and Jon had similar levels of anxiety and maybe they just coped with it in exact opposite ways.

“What I’m trying to say is that, well, I’m here for you.”

“Thank you,” they said softer. “I know I don’t show it often or very much, but I really do appreciate you being around.”

Martin didn’t exactly respond. Maybe that had been too much? Martin did smile though, and he kept holding Jon’s hand, and that was enough for Jon.

* * *

Sasha treated them to dinner. It wasn’t often that Tim and her went out for dinner, but after Jon had stormed off at work, Tim had seemed on edge for the rest of the day. So Sasha suggested dinner they go out to have a nice, relaxing dinner, her treat.

Tim wasn’t very talkative, which was strange. Tim was always in a mood to talk even when he was upset and only spoke to hide the fact that he was upset.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Tim was pushing his bits of food around his plate with his fork. He didn’t say anything.

“You’re thinking about Jon, aren’t you?”

He looked up then and his hand stopped.

“Tell me what you’re thinking, Tim. I can help,” she implored from across the small table.

Tim’s fork clinked with his plate as he put it down and folded his hands. “I keep messing up, Sasha. First with you and now… I can’t even manage to be friends with Jon anymore.”

“You didn’t mess up with me, Tim,” Sasha replied. “We both had things we were confused about and things we needed to step back to understand. Relationships are built on understanding and respect; not just romantic or sexual relationships, but platonic ones too.”

“Yeah, I know I know,” Tim said exasperated. He sat back in his chair as his hands fell into his lap.

“So what’s the problem?” Sasha said, leaning back in her own chair.

“I don’t know! First, he was the new kid and then suddenly the boss and he’s always been hiding things, you can just  _ tell _ . Then he’s watching me paint my nails and asking me weird questions about it like he’s trying not to offend me and I just- He’s changed, Sasha. Since he became Archivist, he’s changed.”

“Maybe he’s changed because you see him differently.”

“What?”

Sasha put her hands in her lap and looked straight at Tim as he stared back at her. In a quiet voice, she asked, “You miss him, don’t you?” Tim responded quickly and negatively, but Sasha saw the flash of recognition in her eyes that was all the confirmation that she needed.

“We still work together, Sasha. We all do. We all see him almost every day.”

“He misses you, too, you know.” That stopped him in his tracks.

“What?” he asked, and his voice was suddenly quieter.

“He misses you,” she repeated. “I know you see it because it’s pretty obvious. We all know Jon wasn’t the most sociable guy, but we were friends back in research and I can tell that you both miss each other.”

The thing was, he hadn’t noticed

“Sasha-” Tim readjusted himself in his chair. His hands were folded together when he placed them on the table in front of him, and he looked at Sasha.

Sasha had let her hair down. Her curls reached below her shoulders and even without sunlight they almost could be seen as a halo around her head. Her turtle neck jumper was a deep red and that contrasted the gold chain of her necklace that she wore over it. She was so beautiful and calm. Tim hadn’t had something or someone to lean on in years. He’d lost his mind trying to find his brother and he’d taken the job at the Magnus Institute as a last resort, and there was Sasha; kind and sturdy, beautiful and clever and annoying sometimes.

Tim looked down at the table when he spoke. “I like him too much.”

“Explain,” she said.

“I just-” He looked up and met her eyes. “I haven’t been with a guy in a long time and Jon’s just this enigma. We talk and I enjoy it when we talk and I know he likes just talking and working together too. But then sometimes he just doesn’t talk?”

Sasha leaned forward and put her hand on top of both of his. Her skin was smooth and warm. The fabric of her jumper was super soft. “Tim, Jon’s not you. Maybe he doesn’t talk to show affection as you do. I know you like to keep people company and talk to them, but not everyone’s love comes out the same way.”

“Well, then- well, how do I figure out how he shows it then? How do I get him to tell me everything?”

Her hand pulled his apart, and her other hand came up to hold both of his.  _ Listen to what I’m saying _ , she was saying without speaking any words.  _ Calm down. _

“You can’t make everyone tell you everything. Just because I like talking about everything with you, doesn’t mean that Jon or anyone else will too. You need to understand that.”

“So I just, stop asking questions?” He went to get a different response from Sasha with that. He wanted her to explain to him that he just needed to push a little bit and Jon would tell him what’s been bothering him.

“Yes,” she said with finality. “You let him open up to you when he’s ready and feels comfortable, or else you’re going to lose his friendship as well.”

* * *

Jon was trying not to think about the dream they’d had. They’d come into work exhausted. They’d gone straight to their office. Maybe they could close the door and sleep for ten minutes without getting caught. Martin was knocking on the door less than ten minutes later however and stepped inside with a hot, cup of tea that Jon gratefully accepted.

“Are you all right?”

Jon held the mug in his hands, close to his chest. Maybe the warmth could wake them up a little. “I’m just tired,” they answered. “Had a bad dream last night. Thank you for the tea.”

“Of course,” Martin said, and Jon just looked at his smile until they realized what they were doing and hurriedly looked away.

  
  


**Jon:** How do you know if you like someone?

**Georgie:** typically you enjoy being around them

**Jon:** no I’m serious  
**Jon:** How do you know that you like Melanie?

**Georgie:** always out here asking the hard questions aren’t you?  
**Georgie:** idk jon I just like spending time with her. She makes me happy.  
**Georgie:** so whats up?

Jon didn’t know how to even begin to try to answer that question. Today was just not the day to try to sort out his emotions.

**Jon:** hell if I know

**Georgie:** you want some company? I’ll bring drinks

**Jon:** i’m at work

**Georgie:** bold of you to assume that’ll stop me

**Jon:** you really don’t need to I’m fine

**Georgie:** getting my coat

**Jon:** you’re insufferable

**Georgie:** love you too

Jon dropped their phone on their desk with a thunk and let his head fall into his hands. What would Elias do if he decided to do one of his spot inspections today? You know what? No. Fuck Elias. They all work their arses off down here, just the four of them running the archives in this massive place.

Jon was almost surprised by their own thoughts. They were so tired though that they almost hoped Elias would come downstairs so Jon could get some stress relief out of yelling at someone that deserves it.

No. No, he couldn’t take out his stress on other people.

Jon grabbed their jacket and pulled it on as they left their office.

Martin was stapling some papers at a table. “Where are you going?”

“I just need some air,” they said with an  _ okay _ from Martin.

Up one floor and down a hallway there a side-door that had a few concrete steps up to the street level outside. The air outside was cold and nipped at their skin. Winter was coming faster than Jon liked, but that couldn’t be helped. The air in the alleyway Jon now stood in was dank and sordid, but it was fresh air.

Jon pulled a carton of cigarettes out of their coat pocket, pulling a single cigarette out before replacing the carton, and leaned against the brick wall of the building. From an inner pocket in their coat, they pulled out their lighter with the old, golden web design. They put a cigarette to their mouth and lit up the opposite end. They took a long, slow drag. Jon pulled it from their mouth and blew out some smoke.

At least they were getting their own pronouns right more often.

“Sir,” a voice called out.

Jon almost dropped their cigarette when he jumped. They looked just a couple of meters away at the opening of the alley and saw a police officer walking towards him.

_ Oh, God. _

Jon quickly put out their cigarette and stood straight.

* * *

“I’m looking for Jon.”

“You and me both,” Tim replied.

Tim didn’t know her name, but he thought that he recognized her. Her curly, dark hair only reached her shoulders and in her hands, she held a drink tray occupied by two cups and a back in the other.

“Are you Georgie?” Tim asked.

“Yeah,” she replied in a chipper voice. “You must be Tim. It’s nice to meet you.”

Tim almost held out his hand before his brain processed the fact that her hands were full. “It’s nice to meet you too. Uh- does Jon talk about us?”

“All the time,” she said with a smile, and Tim couldn’t help but smile as well.

“You can wait for him here, if you want,” Tim suggested after a brief silence.

“Thanks.” She put the drinks and bag down on the table Tim motioned to that was close by to their desks and sat down.

Tim made to turn away and continue looking for Jon but stopped and looked back at Georgie. “Can I ask you a question?”

Georgie leaned back in her chair. “Sure.”

Tim put a hand in his pocket. “Jon’s pretty secretive, isn’t he?”

Georgie pursed her lips. “I’m sure he likes to think he is.”

“What do you mean by that?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “You just have to figure out his language.”

“That’s what I told him.”

Tim looked behind him to see Sasha walking back into the main area from behind some shelves, a manila folder in hand. A bit of her hair had fallen out of place and hung beside her smiling face. That smile made Tim feel like things would be okay. Sasha came over and stood next to Tim.

“I’m Sasha,” she said, holding out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Georgie shook her hand. “You too. I’m Georgie. How long have you guys worked with Jon?”

“A few years,” Sasha said. “How long have you known him?”

“We went to university together.” Georgie looked back to Tim. “Jon’s an intimate person. He needs his space, but he does care.”

Tim nodded, though he wasn’t sure that was really what he’d been looking for.

“Has anyone seen Jon?” Tim turned to see Martin coming out of the break room with a mug of tea. “I can’t find him.”

“That makes three of us,” Tim said.

“This place is pretty big,” Georgie noted. “Is it easy to get lost in this place?”

“It is,” Sasha said, “but not Jon. Jon always seems to know his way around this place- even the departments he’s never worked in.”

“Talking about me huh?”

Tim spun around and saw Jon walking towards them, only a few meters away. Where had he come from?

Georgie got to her feet and held out the bag to Jon with a smile. “Here you go, mopey.”

Jon took the pastry bag, though he seemed like he was making a small attempt to suppress his smile. He opened the bag and looked inside. “Thanks, Georgie.”

“Got you a drink, too,” she said, holding out the drink tray.

“You really didn’t have to.”

“Just shut up and take the drink.”

Jon smiled and took the drink with his free hand. “If you guys are done talking about me, I need to get back to work.”

“All right, mopey.” Georgie and Jon exchanged an expression like they were talking to each other telepathically.

“I’ll see you both later,” Jon said as a way of parting, and the two of them started walking towards Jon’s office until the door closed behind them.

Tim looked as Sasha. “Did you hear him come in?”

Sasha hesitated to answer. “No,” she said slowly. She shrugged her shoulders then. “What you thinking?”

“I don’t know.”

Tim looked at Jon’s office door and looked back at Sasha.

No. He couldn’t keep being so suspicious. Sasha had to be right; she usually was. Maybe they were right. Maybe he really did need to lay off and give Jon some space, no matter how mysterious he may have seemed to act.


	10. Strangers in Odd Places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon doesn't think that cop in the alleyway was really a cop and Martin needs a favor from Tim and Sasha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this took over two weeks to write because life happened. Hopefully, I'll be back on track and things will start to pick up in the story.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

Jon watched the back of the police officer’s jacket as he turned the corner out of the alleyway and let out a slow exhale. “Thank you.” They turned to the person that had come out, the same person from upstairs that had wanted to “borrow” a Leitner last week.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said. “That cop didn’t have a right to speak to you like that. He pushed aside his blond hair, a puff of frozen breath coming out with his words.

Jon knew more than him that cops weren’t fair, but they’d never had someone directly intervene on their behalf without being involved in the situation. Plus, there had been something strange about that officer. They couldn’t put their finger on it, but something had seemed off about him.

“You all right?”

Jon nodded. “I’m fine.”

“Maybe you could, I don’t know, lend me a Leitner?”

“No chance.”

He shrugged. “Worth a try.” He held out his hand with a light smile. “My name’s Corin.”

Jon shook his hand. “I guess you already know my name.” Then it hit Jon; their name. The officer had known Jon’s name. Jon had never said their name, they were sure of that. How had he known their name?

“Well, see you around,” Corin said before he turned around and went back inside. Whatever he’d come out there for had apparently lost his interest.

Jon was soon to follow inside, walking right back down to the archives to find Georgie waiting for him along with Tim and Sasha.

“So what’s up?” Georgie sat in Jon’s chair behind their desk. “Having feelings are we?”

“I, uh- I mean, yes,” Georgie smirked. “But there’s a new problem,” they quickly clarified and Georgie didn’t look surprised.

“Emotions aren’t a problem, Jon.”

“First of all, I disagree. Second of all, there is an actual problem.”

“Okay,” she said, still smiling. “What is it?” She took a long sip from her drink as Jon breathed deeply.

“I was just outside,” they started. “I was… There was a police officer that came up to me and started asking me what I was doing in the alleyway.”

Georgie’s smirk disappeared in an instant. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. He didn’t try to arrest me, at least he didn’t get that far before someone else came outside. That’s not the problem right now, though. The problem is that he knew my name.”

Looking no less concerned, Georgie raised her eyebrow.

“I didn’t tell him my name, Georgie. He just knew it and said “Have a good day, Mr. Sims.” and something felt off about him like he was hiding something. Like he knew something that I didn’t.”

Georgie was quiet. She held her drink in both of her hands in her lap. The two of them made eye contact and Jon knew that Georgie understood what they were trying to say without actually saying it.

“You think it’s the same thing as that person we met back in uni? With Claire and Elliot?”

“I know it is.”

“Well,” she said after a long, silent moment “what should we do?”

Jon looked away. What could they do? “I don’t know. I’d like to avoid another traumatic event if I can.” They glanced up to see a small smile on her face again that joined Jon’s as she gave a short laugh.

“Yeah, that’d be nice.”

Jon took a quick sip from his drink. “I guess you don’t have anything to fear, though.”

“Ha. I may not be able to feel fear but I’d rather not have some possessed stranger walking around in my footsteps.”

Jon sat on their desk, holding the warm drink in their hands. This felt almost like old times. Trauma jokes, hot drinks, and a friend to share company with. That really was all they’d been missing all this time, hadn’t it.

“By the way, Melanie’s looking for a job.” Georgie took a long sip from her drink. “You wouldn’t happen to be hiring, would you?”

“What happened to her show?”

Georgie looked away like she wasn’t sure she should say something or not.

“Georgie, what happened?”

“I’m not sure, but her team collapsed. Last time I talked to her, she was the only one left working on the show still. She said that she was looking into an old train graveyard for the next episode, but she doesn’t have her team anymore and it’s just her. I’m worried about her, Jon. She’s seemed really stressed.”

Jon hadn’t heard any of that news, but it synced up with how Melanie had been acting. She had mentioned a train graveyard before over the fewer and fewer texts they’d received from her.

Georgie looked up when she’d finished almost in surprise.

“What?”

“I just-” Georgie gave her head a bit of a shake. “I don’t know. Said more than I meant to, I guess.”

Jon took a long sip from their drink. Their gaze fell on a piece of wall in their office. “If Melanie really needs another job, I can see what I can do, but I don’t really suggest working here if she can help it.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that before,” Georgie responded with a sigh.

There was quiet for a long moment. Georgie didn’t drink from her cup. She just stared at a bit of the floor dejectedly.

“I’ll text her after I get out of work,” Jon relented. It wasn’t like they weren’t going to do it anyway.

She looked back up at them and smiled. “Thanks, Jon.”

Jon thought about asking about the current status of her and Melanie’s relationship but thought better of it. “Thanks for the drink and snack, but I have to get back to work.”

“Yeah yeah.”

Jon put their drink down on their desk as they both got to their feet. Jon opened the door and led Georgie out. They weren’t six steps out of their office when Sasha came bounding up to them.

“I’ve been an idiot, an absolute idiot!”

Jon was concerned, to say the least, when she stopped in front of them. “Why?” they asked slowly.

“Jonah Magnus,” she said, clearly expecting them to understand without any explanation to which Jon simply raised their brows. “Jimmy Magma? Jonah Magnus is his actual name!”

It took Jon a moment before everything that sentence meant processed. Their head just dropped into their hand with an exasperated smile. “You’re telling me Tim got so into our heads that we didn’t remember his actual name?”

“Yep!” Sasha was smiling and Jon could tell that she was just managing to withhold laughing.

“Sounds like you both have work to get to,” Georgie said. “I know the way out.”

Jon turned towards Georgie, and as she took a step closer they did as well and they wrapped their arms around Georgie. They hugged tightly before letting go of each other with smiles.

“Talk to you later,” she said before turning and making her way out.

Jon watched her leave before turning back to Sasha. “Any other live-changing knowledge?”

“Well, for one,” she started “Jimmy Magma: founder and old dude that built a dusty, creepy, old library, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Wrong!” Sasha jumped in excitement. Jon couldn’t remember the last time they’d seen Sasha this excited about something so mundane. She grabbed Jon’s hand and started running through the archives.

Jon couldn’t help staring at their clasped hands. She’d just reached out and grabbed their hand like it was nothing. Did that mean that they were friends? He was probably just over-reacting and this was normal for people that weren’t touch starved and traumatized.

Sasha dragged them towards the artifact storage room.

“Sasha?” Jon had never seen her enter artifact storage with any sort of excitement. They continued nonetheless, and when they finally slowed down to a stop, Tim and Martin were there as well. They were talking loudly enough, but Jon didn’t remember being able to hear them just a few meters back.

“Behold,” Sasha said with a grand sweeping motion to a large framed portrait they were all now standing in front of, hanging on a wall.

The painting depicted a man with bright, ginger hair wearing a very light, but bright green neckcloth. He wore a blue coat that seemed tailored to show how small the man seemed.

“Didn’t know Jimmy Magma was a twink,” Tim commented, earning stifled laughter from them all, including Jon.

“Pretty… uh.,” Martin started but stopped.

“Go ahead, Martin,” Sasha encouraged. “He  _ is _ pretty.”

“Not what I was going to say, but yes.”

“What were you saying?”

Martin hesitated for a moment. “Just that- I mean, looks pretty gay doesn’t he?”

“You’re not wrong,” Jon said spontaneously.

The man in the portrait’s eyes were violet, a beautiful color in threatening eyes. His face was relaxed, but his eyes were open almost as if they were waiting as if they saw through the oil paints. Jon could look past all of that, they’d seen plenty of portraits, but the stare Jimmy- Jonah Magnus had almost seemed familiar.

Jon only realized after speaking that the others had been having their own conversation when they interrupted. “Does he look familiar to you?”

Sasha answered first. “What do you mean?”

“His eyes look familiar. The way he’s looking at the painter.”

“Didn’t know you liked art, Jon,” Tim said, a joke at the end of his sentence waiting to continue, but it didn’t.

“I wasn’t going to mention it,” Sasa said “but yeah. There is something about him that looks familiar.”

“That’s just because we’ve all seen a hundred portraits before of people our whole lives and they all look the same.”

Jon turned to Tim with their brow raised. “You see many oil paintings of ginger twinks from 1818?”

“I didn’t know you had a type, Tim,” Martin added.

Ever the one making jokes, Tim replied, “I can neither confirm nor deny that.”

* * *

There was a knock on the door as Jon was gathering up a few folders to take home. They looked up and saw Martin in the doorway and didn’t stop the smile. “I thought you’d left already.”

Martin walked in as he spoke. “I usually am but, you know, got caught up with work today.” Martin smiled and Jon stopped to just look at him for a moment. “Thought I’d see if you were still here or not.”

“Well, I’m usually here late.”

“So I see.”

Jon wasn’t sure if that was a critique of their working habits or not. They picked up their folders and slid them into their bag.

“Are you bringing all of those home?”

“Yeah,” Jon replied as they closed up their bag and grabbed their coat from their desk chair.

“You work at home, too?”

“Archives aren’t going to organize themselves.” They looked back to Martin and saw the concern on his face. “It’s not like I’m doing anything else,” they said with a shrug, and as the words left their mouth, they realized how true they were. Yeah, he was spending more time with Georgie, and on occasion Melanie, but they didn’t do anything outside of work and the two of them.

Jon pulled their jacket on before they lifted the strap of their bag over their head and onto their shoulder.

“Do you want to come over for drinks?”

Jon barely had time enough to process the offer before Martin continued.

“Sasha and Tim wanted to have drinks this Friday after work and I wanted to know if you’d like to join us.” Martin combed his hand through his hair just behind his neck like he didn’t even notice what he was doing.

Jon started buffering, as Melanie had taken to saying.

Martin, who they perhaps had feelings for, who they were definitely not good enough for, invited them for drinks at their place.

_ Stop overthinking this. _

“I’d love to.”

Martin beamed. “All right! I’ll- I’ll text you the information.”

Jon nodded, smiling, though he felt the uncomfortable rush of blood to his ears and hoped desperately that Martin wouldn’t notice. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Martin nodded, still smiling. “Tomorrow.” Then left their office. A moment later, Martin popped back into view. “Good night, Jon.”

“Good night, Martin.”

Jon listened to Martin’s footsteps fade and smiled. They got going after that, trying not to think about Martin’s smile and the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. They almost forgot to text Melanie and only did so when they remembered on the transit back home.

  
  


**Martin:** I need a favor and you can’t say no

**Tim:** what is it?

**Martin:** you’re coming over to my place after work this friday for drinks

**Sasha:** martin?  
**Sasha:** are you ok?

**Martin:** I’m fine don’t worry

**Tim:** doesn’t sound like it?

**Martin:** …  
**Martin:** I may or may have told Jon that you both were coming over to my place for drinks and invited him over as well  
**Martin:** Don’t laugh at me. I know you’re laughing

**Tim:** OMG  
**Tim:** really didnt think that through did u?

**Sasha:** we’ll show up exactly ten minutes late so you two have time

**Martin:** GUYS  
**Martin:** SERIOUSLY  
**Martin:** I NEED YOUR HELP

**Tim:** tbh martin thats adorable

**Martin:** Does that mean you’ll be there?

**Sasha:** of course we will

**Tim:** ofc

**Martin:** Thank you sm I’m in your debt

**Tim:** a life debt from martin?  
**Tim:** _ GASP  
_ **Tim:** can i exchange life debts?

**Sasha:** exchange with who?

**Tim:** jon  
**Tim:** i still owe him a life debt from way back when i first joined the creepy library club

**Sasha:** how??

**Tim:** i don’t kiss and tell

**Martin:** You actually do.

**Sasha:** yeah

**Tim:** fuck you guys i keep loads of secrets

**Sasha:** sure


	11. Alcohol and Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drinks at Martin's seems to go well, particularly when Martin has a question for Jon when the two of them are alone.
> 
> **Content Warnings: drinking alcohol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the fluff because it ain't lasting long.

Jon should have been spending their time working, but instead, they sat on the floor of their living room with their computer open in front of them, reading through documents again and again that they hadn’t even thought of in years. On the floor beside them was a notebook that they hadn’t looked at since they’d been a little kid. A notebook filled with notes and drawings of all the monsters to watch for and everything to do if you saw them. Jon wasn’t often nostalgic for their childhood, but that one weekend with their first real friend- it filled him with a soft feeling that lifted them up before dropping them on concrete. They couldn’t think about that now, though.

They’d long since transferred all of the notes and sketches from the notebook to their computer, and they still didn’t know anything about the not-them as Georgie and Jon had come to call them.

Jon didn’t know where to start. How were they supposed to research something that seemingly no one had heard of? There was only one thing in their notebook from so long ago that just said: “leave”. How were they supposed to leave if the not-them were finding  _ them _ ?

There was a quiet tone that climbed up and down a scale. Jon looked down at their phone sitting on the carpet beside them to see the lit screen.  _ Drinks at Martin’s _ . Jon silenced the reminder and breathed deeply. Time to prepare themself for socializing. Sasha and Tim would be there, too. Should they come out to them there? Was that a good idea? Could they even muster up that kind of courage?

Jon closed their computer and went to their closet where they stared at their clothes. How should they dress? They wanted to reach for a skirt, but that was out of the question. Maybe… There were those loose, flowy pants that Georgie had helped them pick out. Jon pulled those out. Smooth, black fabric that swayed and didn’t cling to their figure. Jon smiled and tossed them on their bed. A dark green turtleneck was what they picked out after. It wasn’t too heavy, but it would keep them warm enough.

Jon looked in the mirror, saw how feminine this outfit seemed, and bit their lip.

**Georgie:** melanie gave me flowers?!!  
**Georgie:** they’re the same as the first ones she gave and they smell so nice  
**Georgie:** i’m going to lose my goddamn mind

**Jon:** I love you and that’s amazing georgie but i need help

Jon quickly took a picture of their reflection and sent it to Georgie.

**Jon:** is this too fem?

**Georgie:** you look fantastic jon! Beautiful!

Jon felt a warm sensation fill their chest and they smiled, but at the same time, it didn’t help the tension in his chest.

**Jon:** thanks, but do you think its ok to wear with people im not out to??

**Georgie:** I think you look cute. Whatever you wear will be fine jon.  
**Georgie:** melanie says you look handsome

_ Okay. _ Jon let out the breath they’d been holding. Melanie didn’t know either, and if she could describe them as ‘handsome’ then the outfit passed.

**Jon:** tell her thanks for me

**Georgie:** she wants to know if you’re going on a date

**Jon:** i’m going to martin’s for drinks

**Georgie:** so thats a yes

Jon wanted to send a caps locked message back, but they knew that would just prove her point.

**Jon:** other people are going to be there.  
**Jon:** i’m deciding if i should come out to them or not

**Georgie:** it’s entirely your decision. Just make sure that youre safe and comfortable. You don’t have to come out

**Jon:** thanks georgie

  
  


Jon heard familiar voices behind the door. They knocked on the door, breaking the silence of the corridor. Martin’s building wasn’t unlike the one Jon lived in, in any significant way. Jon knocked and the door opened quickly to reveal Martin who smiled when he saw Jon. Martin stood there for a moment before stepping back to let Jon in.

“I’m happy that you could make it,” Martin said as if he were scrambling to push words out.

“Thanks for inviting me.” Jon unzipped their jacket, not sure if there was a place to put it, yet. Their eyes locked with Martin’s and time ticked by. That is, until Sasha’s voice knocked into them.

“Hey, Jon! Welcome to the party!”

Jon turned around to see Sasha with a beer in hand and Tim not far behind. They waved. “Hi.” Sasha looked like that wasn’t her first drink and Tim- His eyes seemed to be fixed on Jon and they weren’t sure what that meant or if they liked it. They turned back to Martin. “Is there a place to put my coat?” they asked.

Martin jumped into gear. “Of course. You can hang it on a chair or there’s a closet.”

Jon quickly pulled their coat off and hung it on the back of a chair at the small dining room table, giving their answer to Martin that way instead of speaking.

“What do you want to drink?”

“Well, what do you have?”

Martin led them a few steps away to the kitchen where he opened the fridge to reveal the display of alcohol. “I don’t drink a lot,” Martin said like he was making an excuse, “but Tim and Sasha heard drinks and brought a lot.”

“Just because you don’t know how to have a good time,” Tim interrupted, “doesn’t mean we can’t take advantage of the night.”

“I’ll just start with a beer,” they said and let Martin pick one out and hand it to them. “Thanks.”

“No problem!” Martin said and he was smiling, and Jon just stared at his smile for a moment with one of their own.

“Can’t do the hard stuff, huh, Jon?” Tim joked.

Jon looked at him, still softly smiling. Tim had an arm around Sasha’s shoulders while his other hand held an almost empty glass with amber liquid in it.

“I can handle it. I’d just rather keep some sense about me while you’re in the room.”

“Ohhhhh,” Sasha exclaimed. “Besides, you only drink the hard stuff to be impressive.”

Tim suddenly let go of Sasha and she lost her balance a bit before quickly regaining it with a few stumbling steps. “Hey!”

Jon turned to the counter that they stood near and put the top of the bottle on the counter’s edge. He brought his hand down swiftly and sternly on the bottle cap. The cap released the bottle and flipped onto the counter while Jon brought the bottle to their lips for a small sip. They turned back to everyone to see them staring at them and Jon suddenly felt uncomfortable.

“What?”

“You gotta show me how you did that,” Sasha demanded.

Tim was quick after, saying, “Where’d you learn that?”

Jon’s uncomfortableness blended in with confusion. “I just- I just opened the bottle?” they said hesitantly.

“Whatever Mr. humbler than thou.” Sasha put her beer down on the table and pushed Martin and Jon out of the way to get to the fridge. “She pulled it open and grabbed a beer before letting gravity close the fridge. “Do it again.”

Jon’s brows rose. “Um, okay?” They put their beer down on the counter and took the one from Sasha’s hand. They put the edge of the bottle cap on the edge of the counter and brought their hand down on it. The cap came off and Jon handed the beer back to Sasha.

Sasha stared at them as if they’d just found a cure to cancer, which told Jon either how much alcohol she could handle or much she’d had already. “Brilliant.”

“How about we finish the drinks we have before opening every bottle in this apartment,” Martin said.

Sasha relented and after that, things were calm. Martin gave Tim control of music which meant an extremely varied mix of music from almost every genre. The conversations changed as quickly as the wind while Jon had more drinks than they’d planned to. Tim was talking about a concert he wanted to get tickets to and then all of them were trash-talking Elias, and Jon would be lying if they said they didn’t enjoy it. Then, later in the night, Jon and Martin went into the kitchen for some water and it was just the two of them.

“That was pretty cool,” Martin started, “opening the bottle on the counter. Where’d you learn that?”

“University.” Jon’s smile spread over their face as they thought back to those times. “Those were good times.”

Martin got four glasses from a cabinet and started filling them all partially with water from the tap. Martin turned to Jon and Jon was expecting him to say something, but he didn’t. They just stared at each other and for once, Jon didn’t mind.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Martin finally said, breaking their personal silence while they could hear Sasha and Tim arguing not so far away.

Jon was smiling in that way that was effortless, that came naturally to your face when you were just happy. “I’m glad I came.”

Jon felt the alcohol in their system and its effects on them. Their mind wasn’t clear, but they hadn’t felt any anxiety in the last two hours and they remembered why they didn’t drink often, because without any anxiety holding them back- well, there wasn’t anything holding them back.

“I’m glad I get to know you,” Jon said. “You know, ‘cause there’s billions of people on this planet and the fact that we specifically managed to meet each other in this whole world is pretty extraordinary because, I mean, think about it! There’s billions of people on the planet and millions of people in the UK and we just  _ happened _ to meet and be friends and with those kinds of odds? It’s incredible! And I got to meet you! And if I hadn’t taken the sketchy ass job at the Magnus Institute because it was the first place that would hire me, I might not have met you and I think that’s just incredible, right? Who knew such a messed up heap like me would be able to meet a guy like you; someone who’s handsome and caring and really doesn’t deserve anything bad, nevermind  _ me _ .”

“I don’t think you’re so bad,” was all Martin answered with.

Jon laughed. That was only because there was only one person who did know. Jon had only ever talked to Georgie about anything because she was the only one they’d ever gotten close to before now. But hearing that from Martin, seeing that he actually meant it-- Jon wanted to kiss him. They wanted to kiss him and thank him even though they knew that there were much better people out there for him. Besides, they knew him and Tim flirted and Jon was waiting for the day when they started dating. They waited for the day when Martin, Tim, and Sasha were happy together, and it didn’t matter that Jon was staring at this beautiful man who somehow saw something in Jon that told him to be their friend.

God, they wanted to kiss him.

Martin smiled softly and he was gorgeous. That smile made Jon feel just a tiny bit special despite how much they knew themself and how much better Jon would be with someone else.

Martin’s cheeks were red when he asked, “Can I kiss you?”

Jon felt their blood rushing through their body. “Yes.”

Martin’s hand moved first. He raised his hand up to Jon’s neck, and Jon’s skin trembled when Martin’s skin brushed theirs as he wrapped a lock of Jon’s hair around his finger just over their shoulder. Martin moved closer and leaned down and then their lips were touching. They were warm and full, and Jon leaned into them, into Martin. Martin let go of their hair and moved his hand around Jon’s neck, almost cradling it.

Jon rested a hand on Martin’s chest while their own was jumping through hoops. Jon pulled back to catch his breath, their head spinning and their heart beating a million times per minute. Martin chased him and their lips connected once more, and it was slow and soft, and it almost felt like dancing. Then it stopped.

Jon opened their eyes to see Martin staring at them.

“You look beautiful,” Martin said.

Jon might have cried if they hadn’t been a bit drunk. Instead, Jon smiled up at this man who just kissed them, who just called them beautiful, and was still holding Jon close. Jon’s chest was tight and with their blood rushing through their body, they weren’t even sure if they were capable of speech at that moment.

“Hey!” Tim was then shouting from the living room, breaking whatever trance that kiss had trapped them in. “Is water that scarce these days?”

Jon looked at the glasses of water on the counter.

“Guess we should get on that,” Martin said with a bit of a laugh. He let Jon go and picked up two of the glasses, handing them to Jon. Jon took them while Martin picked up the other two and they walked back into the living room to rejoin Tim and Sasha.

“What were you two doing?” Sasha looked up at them from the sofa with an expression that said she knew more than Jon would’ve liked.

Jon started but didn't go far. “N- Nothing.”

Sasha opened her mouth and Jon lifted one of the glasses of water in his hands with a pointed look at her and she stopped.

They passed out water, then Martin and Jon took seats in front of the sofa on the carpet while Tim clicked through the channels until he found something to his liking that no one outright refused.

Jon must have drifted to sleep after that because they didn’t remember much after. They just remembered leaning back as they fell asleep and a gentle hand playing with their hair, soothing them until they lost consciousness.


	12. The Beginning of Something Dreadful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Martin share a quiet and awkward breakfast and that's the least eventful thing that happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little longer which is what I'm hoping to do for future chapters. Chapters may be more spread out but I have every intention of completing this story since I know how it's going to end.

Jon heard their phone go off, bringing them ever closer to consciousness. They took a tighter grip on the blanket and pulled it over their face. Text messages could wait but on the other hand-

Jon peeled their eyes open and saw their phone on a dark nightstand. The blanket in their fist was a fluffy comforter that they were unfamiliar with, and that nightstand wasn’t familiar either. They were in a bed; not their bed. They didn’t remember going to bed. Had someone put them there? They pushed aside the comforter and pushed themself up and looked around at a room they hadn’t seen before.

There wasn’t much to see; white walls, a closed closet, a bookcase filled while other books were on the floor. It was much better organized and cleaned than Jon’s flat in any case.

Martin’s. That’s right. Martin must have let them sleep in his bed last night.

Last night.

Jon could still feel the lingering effects of alcohol in their head, but it wouldn’t last long, they knew.

They reached over and grabbed their phone. Saturday. Ten-thirteen. A few texts from Georgie.

**Georgie:** soooo how was your night?  
**Georgie:** mine was great thanks for asking. We went out for dinner and got a few drinks.  
**Georgie:** i’m guessing you hit the bottle a little hard, huh? revisiting uni days?

**Jon:** shut up I have real problems to deal with

It was like Georgie had been actually waiting for them to answer because her reply came in seconds.

**Georgie:** tell me what happened!!!

**Jon:** you are so bloody nosy

**Georgie:** if you don’t tell me, well do you know how easy it’d be to get your friends’ numbers and emails? All of your contact info is actually online. I looked it up

**Jon:** Why?

**Georgie:** I’m researching the Magnus Institute for my podcast. Why else?  
**Georgie:** but enough about me. Tell me about your night!

Jon held their phone in their hands, staring at the screen. They thought back to last night and relived it all in their mind, and somehow, despite having been drunk, they could recall everything. They recalled how Martin’s touch felt, how he held them and how his fingers had sifted through Jon’s hair as they’d fallen asleep leaning against Martin.

**Jon:** It is entirely possible that I may have actually kissed Martin last night.

**Georgie:** HOLY SHIT!!!

Jon found that Georgie managed to encapsulate everything that Jon was feeling in one text. Martin kissed them and their heart still raced when they thought about it.

**Georgie:** spill

**Jon:** Georgie I don’t even know. He asked if he could kiss me. Martin Blackwood asked if he could kiss ME

**Georgie:** that is SO sweet  
**Georgie:** master of consent

Jon suddenly heard a clatter from beyond the small bedroom. They pushed the comforter aside as they swung their legs off the bed and stood up. The door creaked when Jon pulled it open. Down a short hallway that was now quiet and opened up into the tiled kitchen, Jon found Martin cracking eggs into a small bowl.

Jon knew they should say something to announce themself, but all they managed was, “Breakfast?”

Martin turned around to Jon and smiled softly. “I’m making eggs and toast. Want any?”

“Sure.”

Martin turned back to his egg cracking as Jon felt their phone vibrate in their hands.

**Georgie:** so how was it??

**Jon:** I don’t know? Nice? What do you want me to say?

**Georgie:** i would like you to be honest with me jonathan  
**Georgie:** did you enjoy kissing martin as much as you dreamed you would?

**Jon:** stfu

There was the dining table across the room. The living room was a few paces away. Jon looked around but ultimately decided that just leaning back against the wall in the kitchen, out of Martin’s way, was the best decision.

Jon stared at Martin. Sometimes people could feel you staring at them, but Martin seemed to not notice. They watched Martin pour eggs into a pan, the sizzle loud and immediate, then turn to a toaster where he dropped a couple of slices of bread inside.

**Jon:** it was nice.

**Georgie:** was that so hard?

**Jon:** I will kill you.

“How do you like your eggs?”

Jon’s head jolted up when Martin spoke. Martin was now the one staring at them, a spatula in hand while Jon reached for an answer.

“However you’re having yours.”

“Scrambled it is.” Martin turned back to the stovetop only to look back at Jon. “Do you want a drink? There’s tea or- or I can make coffee if you prefer?”

Jon stopped leaning against the wall. “I’ll take some coffee if you have it,” they said, trying not to sound hesitant. Martin just nodded and went back to work.

There was another buzz from their phone and when Jon looked at it expecting another text from Georgie, they saw Melanie’s name.

**Melanie:** Please answer georgie she won’t shut up about you ignoring her  
**Melanie:** also  
**Melanie:** glad you had fun

Jon was going to kill Georgie. Melanie hunted ghosts. She could hunt her girlfriend, right?

Jon found no new messages from Georgie, but they did find three missed calls from her.

**Jon:** christ georgie what is it?

**Georgie:** call me and maybe you’ll find out 

**Jon:** Can this wait? I’m still at Martin’s

**Georgie:** oh fuck sorry  
**Georgie:** you stayed the night huh?

**Jon:** I fell asleep all right?

**Georgie:** this keeps getting better

**Jon:** I will murder you with a spade.

**Georgie:** I’d like to see you try

Texts from Melanie started coming again.

**Melanie:** I hear you got more than a kiss  
**Melanie:** nice

**Jon:** 1\. That’s not my thing. I just fell asleep.  
**Jon:** 2\. I really hope you’ve enjoyed having a girlfriend because she’s not going to be around for much longer

**Melanie:** over my dead body

“You all right?”

Jon looked up and Martin was looking at them complexed.

“Sorry,” they said quickly. “Just, some friends that are pestering me.”

“What are friends for, right?”

Jon nodded. “Yeah.”

Martin made breakfast and they both sat down at the table to eat. The eggs and toast weren’t remarkable by any standard, but it was good to eat a nice breakfast, and with a friend.

“Did you sleep well?” Martin asked. He was a bit hesitant in that way people are when they’re just trying to make conversation when the quiet is awkward. Yeah, Jon definitely felt awkward.

“Yes,” Jon replied. “Thank you. I don’t remember anything after falling asleep.”

“You didn’t miss much, though honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t wake up with how loud Tim got yelling at the television.”

Jon stifled a laugh. “What was it?”

“A documentary on an architect. I wasn’t really interested but Tim hated the guy.”

Jon took a sip of their coffee, smiling. “That’s Tim.” Jon held their coffee in front of them, just looking over the top of the mug and looking at Martin; the freckles scattered across his face and the bright curls that surrounded his head. Martin looked up and they made eye-contact before Jon quickly looked back down at their coffee, and they could feel their ears get red.

“Um,” they started, unsure of what would come out of their mouth. “Thanks for inviting me last night. It was nice.”

Martin nodded. “I’m happy that you came.” There was a pause as Jon finished more of their coffee before Martin continued. “I like your outfit. It’s not something you usually wear.”

The smile on Jon’s face then was automatic. “Thanks. I’m, well- I want to start wearing more feminine things but you know, I’m not out to the others, yet.”

Martin nodded like he really did understand what they were talking about. “I get it.” Martin took another bite of his food. “You look, uh, good.”

“Thank you.”

Jon left soon after. They weren’t really sure what to do or talk about, so they excused themselves, saying that they had work to do at home which dampened Martin’s smile.

“Text me. Okay?” Martin said and Jon heard the ever slight shake in his voice.

Jon looked at him and Martin was just looking at them. His eyes were wide and he smiled as Jon stepped out the door, but his eyes seemed like he was sad or upset but didn’t want to show it.

“Are you all right?”

“Of course,” Martin answered too quickly.

Jon stared at him for a moment before slowly saying, “All right.”

“Get home, safely.”

“I will,” Jon said, and smiled, a light smile, and Martin’s smile brightened before Jon turned down the hallway and heard Martin’s apartment door close behind him.

Jon didn’t need to think about everything that had happened the entire way home, but that’s what they did. Yeah, they’d been a little drunk last night and Martin really hadn’t seemed very intoxicated, and so Jon found themself thinking about Martin and how his lips had felt on theirs and how nice it’d been to fall asleep against him while he ran his fingers through their hair. That is until someone sat next to them.

“Hello, Archivist!”

The person occupying the space next to Jon was wearing a flamboyant suit. They glanced around quickly and was surprised by how many people weren’t paying any attention to the stranger beside them, that is, everyone. Jon looked at the face beneath the black top hat and suddenly they were absolutely certain of what they were: a not-them. Jon wasn’t sure how they knew that, but they instantly knew as soon as they looked at it. Its skin was smooth and their movements were placid like every movement had intention. Jon didn’t reply to it, but it turned it’s head to look at them.

“Why, I said hello, Archivist,” it repeated in an almost sing-song like voice.

“You did.” Its eyes unnerved Jon. They looked like they were looking right through them, but also looking into them.

“You have such nice skin, Archivist. A shame it won’t stay like that!”

“What does that mean? What are you?”

“Oh, aren’t you clever! Asking the right question!” It smiled and Jon’s skin crawled. “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait for those answers.”

The train started to slow.

“I believe this is your stop, isn’t it?”

It was, but Jon wasn’t sure if they felt more comfortable leaving or staying. When the train stopped, they got up and walked to the door.

“Goodbye, Archivist!”

Jon fought every nerve to look back one last time. They kept walking, up the stairs and onto the street where they were once again alone amongst a hundred other people, other normal people.

Their building wasn’t far, but Jon pulled out their phone and texted Georgie as they continued walking down the pavement.

**Jon:** the not-them found me again.

**Georgie:** what’s the not them?

**Jon:** are you serious??

**Georgie:** this is melanie btw

**Jon:** where’s georgie?

**Georgie:** taking a shower. What’s up?

**Jon:** all right if I come over?

**Georgie:** I don’t see why not

**Jon:** right. I’m stopping by my place and then I’ll be over

**Georgie:** k

Jon went into work in a rush on Monday. They didn’t bother trying to pick out a vest or something to go over their skirt. They buttoned up a white dress shirt and found themselves grabbing a skirt and had it half off the hanger before they hesitated. Jon bit their lip, their head swimming with anxiety over this one decision. They took in a deep breath and said fuck it. After a long exhale, Jon put the skirt on and finished getting ready.

Jon greeted Rosie in a rush when they entered the Institute. They were painfully aware when Rosie stared at them as they passed by. They tried their best to push past it as their anxiety started to swallow them.

_ You made your decision. You’re wearing what you’re wearing. You can’t change now. Everyone will find out sooner or later. _

Jon found Sasha and Tim talking at their desks down in the archives and the sight of normalcy gave Jon a moment to let go of their breath and breathe for a minute. They made their way to the two of them and with every step closer, the mounting anxiety crowding in their head and chest rebuilt. Their hand clenched on the strap of their bag, they were taking their last few steps to approach when Tim greeted them first.

“Hey, Jon! How are you?” Tim smiled and the warmth it gave Jon didn’t stand a chance to their anxiety.

“I’m- I’m okay. How are you?”

“Pretty good.”

Jon watched his and then Sasha’s eyes look at the skirt Jon was wearing and they bit their lip in anticipation. Then, before Tim or Sasha could say anything else, Jon opened their mouth. “I need to tell you both something.”

“Okay.” Tim sat back on his desk. Sasha leaned back in her chair and they both just looked at Jon.

Why did this always have to be so much harder than it was when they planned all of this out on the way there?

Jon fidgeted with the strap of their bag and bit the inside of their lip for what felt like an entire minute of silence, though they really had no idea how much time had passed. They breathed deeply, then spit it all out. “I’m transgender, specifically non-binary, and my pronouns are they/them and I know that maybe that might be confusing because, you know, they/them sounds plural but actually they’ve always been used as singular even when you don’t notice so, um… yeah. Id’ just- um, really appreciate it if maybe you could use they/them when referring to me. I’d really appreciate it.”

They looked up at Sasha. “That’s what I was trying to tell you last week before- before Tim interrupted.”

Sasha stood up with her soft and caring smile and hugged Jon. Jon didn’t know exactly what to do for a moment. It’d been a long time since someone other than Georgie or Melanie had hugged them. After an awkward moment with Sasha’s arms wrapped over their shoulders, Jon returned the hug with their arms around her waist.

“You’re our friend and we support you,” she said. “We love you, Jon. Nothing’s going to change that.”

The mountain of anxiety slowly clipped away. Jon felt tears spring to their eyes and immediately closed them, trying to push them away in vain. So they just hugged Sasha in the quiet of the archives until they murmured back to her, “Thank you. Thank you, Sasha.”

She slowly let go and Jon did the same. They quickly ducked their head, trying to covertly wipe their eyes.

“Well,” Sasha said, “I’ll leave you two to talk.” Then, she started walking away.

“Actually- Sasha-” Jon tried to get out, but she was already gone.

Great. They’d had to go find her later.

Jon looked up at Tim, now on his feet, and was a bit surprised to see that Tim seemed as anxious as they felt.

“I’m sorry I keep… nagging at you,” he said. “I just-” He stopped himself and slowly exhaled. “You’re my friend.” It was a simple statement but it still made emotions stir in Jon that they hadn’t felt in a while.

“I try to make sure everyone’s all right because, well, to me, my friends are like my family and I don’t want to lose any more of that. Then, you start getting overworked and being mysterious and I- well, it just feels like a lot is changing.”

“It is. I don’t know exactly, but I think things are going to start changing around here in the next few weeks.” They weren’t sure where they got that timeline, but it felt right.

“Hopefully not before the holidays,” Tim joked.

Jon managed a small smile. Tim could always pull a joke out of thin air. “Yeah.”

Tim’s face sobered. “I’m sorry about how, well, in your business I’ve been. I’ll do my best to not poke at you so much. I overstepped my boundaries. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. Sometimes, I just need some space. Though, maybe we should hang out sometime. Spending time with you all outside of work is nice.”

Tim nodded. “Definitely. I’d love that.” His smile was smooth and he looked at Jon in a way they’d seen before but couldn’t place.

Something about the way Tim said that made Jon’s heartbeat a little faster and they quickly looked away from Tim’s face.

Jon was saved at that moment by a text alert from inside their bag. They quickly unbuckled their bag and dug through it and pulled out their phone.

**Martin:** I’m not coming in today. I’ve got a sick stomach.

“What is it?” Tim asked.

Jon looked up to see Tim still looking at them. They must have dissociated a bit. That seemed to be happening a lot lately. “I just got a text from Martin. He’s not coming in today because he’s sick.”

Tim’s smile faded. “I hope he’s all right.”

Jon looked back to their phone and typed out a response, thinking too much about every word.

**Jon:** I’m sorry to hear that, Martin. I hope you get well soon.  
**Jon:** Take care of yourself.

Jon locked their phone and looked back up to Tim. “I need to talk to you and Sasha, Martin too but- I guess I’ll have to tell him tomorrow.”

“You could text him if it’s really important.”

“I could. That’s probably best. I need to tell you and Sasha first. It’s important.”

Tim nodded and Jon was glad to see the concern on his face; he was taking this seriously. They did feel a little bad for making him worried, but concern was better than misplaced trust.

“Find Sasha and meet me in my office,” Jon said, and with an okay from Tim, Jon went to their office and prepared themself to tell Sasha and Tim everything.


	13. Woorrrmmmmsssss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You saw the title. You read the last chapter. You know what this chapter is. Y'all DO get some Tim pov tho!
> 
> Content Warning: isolation, anxiety/panic attack, worms, martin digging worms out of his skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when you’re writing a character having an anxiety attack and YOU start having an anxiety attack.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Jon didn’t understand what it was with people and not taking them seriously. Jon looked at Sasha who was sitting in a chair on the other side of Jon’s desk.

“This isn’t you trying to pull a prank,” Tim said, but he sounded scared.

Jon made eye-contact with Tim and there was a concern that they hadn’t seen in Tim. “No.”

Tim slowly nodded. “I believe you.”

Jon felt relieved that they didn’t have to continue providing new evidence that they didn’t have. The only thing they had come up with to do next was to call Georgie.

“So how do we stop these not-them?” Sasha asked.

“I don’t know.” Jon fought to keep the despair out of their voice. Truth was, they didn’t know what could stop them or even what they did, but they knew it wasn’t anything good.

“So what do we do, Jon?” Tim asked.

Jon thought back to the notebook they’d had since they were a kid. There’d only ever been one thing for the not-them: run.

“Stay away from them,” they replied. “I’m telling you this because- well, because I care about you both and this thing is following me and you need to be careful.”

Sasha answered, “If it’s following you, you need to be even more careful.”

“I know how to take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for a long time.”

“Okay, but you have friends here. We can help take care of each other.”

Jon was saved from properly processing that statement with a knock on their office door before he pushed open, and there was Melanie walking in. She abruptly stopped when she saw Sasha and Tim also sitting in the office.

“Sorry. Did I interrupt?”

Jon jumped to their feet. “I’m sorry, Melanie. I completely forgot you were starting today.”

“It’s all right, Jon. Don’t worry. Technically I’m late, so we’re both at fault.” Melanie grinned.

“Try not to let it happen again,” they said and let a brief smile cross their lips. “This is Tim and Sasha.”

Melanie held out her hand to them both and shook their hands. “It’s nice to meet you both.”

“A pleasure to meet you as well,” Sasha said with a smile.

Tim shook Melanie’s hand, saying, “Always nice to meet a friend of Jon’s.”

Jon fidgeted with the end of their sleeve. They weren’t sure how they felt about Sasha and Tim meeting Melanie. Melanie had become a part of their personal life with Georgie. Tim and Sasha were their friends but they’d come from their work life.

Melanie turned to Jon. “So, where do you want me, boss?”

“I’ll show you around.” They looked at Tim and Sasha to say something but couldn’t think of anything. Their gaze lingered on Tim who’s lingering smile made them feel a little better and made their chest twist around. “I’ll see you later,” they said, and left the room with Melanie.

They were hardly three paces out the door when Melanie started speaking far too loudly for Jon’s liking.

“You sure he’s not the one you like? Pretty good-looking.”

Jon turned on her. “Shut up!” they whispered. They looked back and didn’t see Tim.

“So you  _ do _ have a crush on him?” she asked, not as loud this time.

“I will fire you right now if you don’t stop.”

She stopped and put a hand to her chest. “My sincerest apologies Mx. Boss.”

Jon rolled their eyes with a fond smile. Mx. That sounded nice. “First things first. You’ve signed a contract with Elias, right?”

Melanie was silent for a moment. “Yeah, of course.”

Jon raised their brows. “Melanie.”

“Look, I never got the email. It’s not my fault.”

“We’ll start with that then.” Jon was cycling through the things Melanie needed to know. Melanie was dressed in business formal attire with her hair tied back and trainers. “Elias doesn’t bother us as much as he bothers the rest of the institute, but be prepared for your shoes being insulted.”

Melanie looked down with a frown. “What’s wrong with my shoes?”

“They’re not business formal. Haven’t you ever been to an interview?”

“Of course I have. It’s usually been fine.”

Jon remembered all the times they’d been rejected from jobs because they hadn’t presented well enough or had been passed by for the white guy in jeans.

“Well, if you want to get paid for today you need to sign a contract first.”

“Getting paid would be nice since it’s the only reason I’m here.”

“Don’t pretend you’re not doing research for Georgie.”

“You’re already here. Why would she need me?”

“Because I quote “don’t express myself enough”.”

Melanie mock gasped. “What a reveal! Never saw that coming!”

Jon rolled their eyes one more time and started leading Melanie back upstairs to Elias’ office. Jon knocked on Elias’ office door, but they only knocked once before Elias told them to come in. Jon pushed the door in and walked inside with Melanie right behind them closing the door behind her.

“Hello, Jon.” Elias looked up from his desk at them. Elias didn’t look as annoyed as he usually did. In fact, he looked glad, like a plan was coming together. Whatever it was, it made Jon uneasy.

“This is Melanie King. Melanie, this is Elias Bouchard, head of the Magnus Institute.”

“Thank you for the introduction, Jon.” Elias stood up, pulled his vest down, and walked around his desk. He held out his hand and shook Melanie’s hand. “A pleasure Miss King. I hear you’ll be joining our staff.”

“Yes, Mr. Bouchard. That’s the plan.”

“Please, call me Elias.” He turned to his desk and picked up a piece of paper. “I have a contract right here for you.” Elias went back around his desk as Melanie took a seat in front of his desk. Elias handed her a pen as she started reading over the contract.

Elias sat in his chair, intertwining his fingers below his chin with his elbows resting on the desk. “As an employee of the Magnus Institute, you are expected to dress in business formal attire. Working in the archives, you will assist Jon as well as myself if the time arises.”

Melanie nodded. “All right.”

Elias didn’t say anything else, just watched as Melanie went to sign the contract.

“Pardon me,” Jon said, fighting against the instinct to keep quiet. Jon moved their eyes to Melanie, avoiding Elias’ critical gaze. “You only get one week of paid leave and this contract is binding for twelve months.”

Melanie raised their brow. “Okay,” she said less enthusiastically and signed the paper.

“Thank you, Miss King.” Elias took the signed contract and put it away somewhere in his desk. “I’ll leave you in Jon’s capable hands.”

The smile Elias wore unnerved Jon. It was the same smile adults had love to give them as a kid when they hadn’t expected them to succeed. Jon opened the door for Melanie and started out themself when Elias spoke up.

“Oh, and Jon.”

Jon turned back and Elias was still looking at them with his critical gaze that was somehow more disappointing.

“The skirt is new. Do you have something you’d like to share with me?”

Jon’s arms stiffened. “No.”

“Well then, you’re dismissed, Mr. Sims.”

Jon cringed inside, but they left right away and closed the door behind them.

* * *

Something was wrong when Martin slowly came to consciousness. Martin opened his eyes to see the sun streaming through the window. The sun was up.  _ Shit _ .

Martin threw his blankets and jumped out of bed. He ran to his closet to get some clothes and changed quicker than he had in a long time. He turned back to his bed and the nightstand beside it and grabbed his glasses, pushing them on. He ran around his apartment until he had everything he needed; pulled on his coat and put his hand on the door handle to open the door.

It didn’t.

Martin pulled on the door again, but it didn’t budge.  _ What? _ He turned the handle and pushed again, but the door refused to open.

“What the-”

The door rattled under Martin’s persistence, then there was a noise, a quiet, scratching noise from outside the door. Martin looked down and there was something moving, something small and silver and crawling out from under his door. Martin jumped back.

Were those maggots? Was there an infestation in the building?

Martin leaned forward and pulled firmly on the door handle and it didn’t budge. Martin felt his anxiety start mounting. He looked down to the silver worms and stepped back and he could feel his throat starting to close up.

_ Calm down. Calm down. It’s just some bugs and a jammed door. It’s going to be okay. _

Martin reached into his pocket and found nothing. His phone. Where was his phone?

Martin looked at the counters and table, then went back to his bedroom. His phone wasn’t on the nightstand and he didn’t hear anything drop when he searched through the blankets and pillows. Where had he put it? He’d left it on the nightstand like he always did. Right? Jon had texted him and they had been just talking about anything that crossed their minds. It’d been nice but, had he dropped his phone accidentally?

Martin dropped down and looked under the bed and didn’t find anything except some clumps of collected dust and dirt. He looked everywhere and he couldn’t find his phone anywhere. He couldn’t even call Jon to tell them he was late, and how was he supposed to call for help with the door?

Martin went back to the door and felt his chest tighten when he saw that the worms were inching their way inside from under his door and all over the carpet. What could he do? What could he do? In a fire, you were supposed to put towels under doors to stop smoke from coming in. Martin ran to the bathroom and got a towel before returning to the door. He knelt and swiftly brushed the worms that had crawled forward back to the door. One stuck to his skin and Martin rushed to pull it off and was startled when it sharply stung once it was off his skin. Where the worm had been there was now blood and torn skin.

_ What the hell? _

With the new knowledge that these little silver worms had teeth, Martin quickly used the towel to push the rest of them back, crushing some in the process until the towel was firmly shoved under the door.

He felt something on his leg and rushed to pull up his pant leg where he saw something wrinkle under his skin. He felt his chest close up and panic start to replace the oxygen in his lungs. 

He got up and ran to the kitchen and found the smallest knife he had in the block knife set he’d had for years from his mother. Martin went down on one knee and lifted his pant leg up again to see that the worm had crawled further up his leg. Just looking at it made Martin’s skin crawl.

Martin carefully positioned the knife just above the wriggling worm and pushed the point of the knife into his skin with a small grimace. He pushed the knife down, making an incision about the length of the worm. Droplets of red began appearing and steadily growing. Martin clenched his teeth and took the knife out before putting it back in and stabbing the worm now covered in his blood. He tried to lift the worm out, to stab it onto the knife, and lift it out. It felt like several minutes with continuous mounting panic consuming him before he finally managed to get the worm out of his skin. The bloody worm fell on the tile where it only lived for a moment before he squashed it under his shoe.

Hours passed and Martin was pacing in his apartment. He’d pace in circles in the kitchen or living room for a while before walking through all the rooms in his flat to make sure no worms had tunneled their way in somewhere before returning to pacing in circles. It was the only thing he could do. He couldn’t think of anything. His phone was gone, his computer wasn’t working, and worms crawled about at every window and vent that had to be filled with towels and whatever else he had on hand.

Eventually, pacing and drinking water and deep breaths stopped working against the anxiety and panic rising through him. Martin had panic attacks before plenty of times and usually, he could find a quiet, somewhat safe place to ride it out and practice breathing. What was he supposed to do when he couldn’t leave? He couldn’t do anything.

Martin sat in the middle of the floor between the sofa and television and curled into himself, holding his head in his hands. There was a rush in his head and his chest felt tight like he couldn’t breathe. He knew he could breathe, he was breathing right now, but he couldn’t convince his mind that he was indeed receiving oxygen. The senseless panic surged through his body as he felt himself trembling.

How was this real? This didn’t actually happen. Things like this don’t happen to him.

He could hear the scratching of the worms from the door, from every window and every vent. He wished so badly that the sound would just stop, that he could just pretend this wasn’t happening.

“It won’t last forever. It won’t last forever. It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay,” he muttered to himself, almost as a prayer.

Martin woke up later absently scratching at his arm. He felt a strange tingling under his skin and the place he was scratching kept moving. Then, he opened his eyes and remembered yesterday.

He sat up and his head spun. He inhaled deeply, slowly letting his breath out like he’d been taught to do and the spinning stopped. He pulled up his sleeve and found two slithering bumps under his skin, releasing full panic back into his consciousness.

With the same knife he’d used before, Martin managed to get them out, but not before he felt something else on both his legs. With some struggle and more of his own blood than Martin ever wanted to see, he rid himself of the silver worms with heavy breath. Martin then went searching through his kitchen drawers.

There had to be something more useful than a knife. He needed something that wouldn’t slide around; something more precise that would lift the bugs out. He found the corkscrew in a cabinet and once he had it, he held it close, and the next time one of the silver worms slipped past his notice, the corkscrew dug it out with much less trouble than the knife had given him.

* * *

**Tim:** hey jon said youre sick. you doing ok?  
**Tim:** youre not still hungover are you?

**Tim:** hey, are you okay? text me back when you get this

**Tim:** martin youre starting to worry me is everything ok? you want me to come over?  
**Tim:** i’ll ditch work you know i will

“Hey, Jon.” Tim walked up to Jon. They were looking through a box of tapes, but they looked up when he called for them. “Have you heard anything from Martin?”

“Only to say that he’s sick and won’t be coming in.” They put the tape they were holding back into the box. “He hasn’t answered any of my other texts.”

The firm pull in his stomach increased. Martin had been out for three days now, and without contacting anyone but Jon, and even their contact was minimal apparently. Jon looked back at their box and was still. Maybe he wouldn’t say it but they seemed worried.

“Sasha hasn’t heard from him either,” Tim said, and the fact didn’t comfort either of them.

“Do you think it’s serious?” Jon asked without looking up.

Tim scratched the back of his head, and he’d be lying if he said his head actually itched. “I mean, his phone could have died and he could be just sleeping a lot.” Tim didn’t believe that story but putting it out in the air helped a tiny bit to comfort himself, and maybe it’d help Jon as well.

“Maybe.”

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Tim turned and saw their newest staff member coming their way. “Nah,” he said.

Jon turned around and the sight of Melanie seemed to calm them a bit. “How are you doing, Melanie?”

“Pretty well. Sasha keeps giving me more work.”

Tim laughed. “Figures.” He looked at Jon and saw a faint smile on his lips as well that soothed something inside him. “You get lost, yet?”

Melanie puffed her chest out like Tim had just thrown the highest of insults at her. “I happen to have an impeccable sense of direction, Tony.”

“It’s Tim.”

“Whatever. I have traveled all across Britain off roads and into places you wouldn’t dare follow.”

Tim leaned back on the table behind him with his arms over his chest. “You have no idea,” he said with a smirk.

“How long was it then?” Jon asked.

Tim watched the two of them stare at each other. He knew that they were friends. It was cool to see Jon interact with people that weren’t him, Sasha, or Martin. Jon raised an eyebrow and Melanie heaved a great sigh.

“Two minutes,” she muttered.

“Not too bad,” Tim replied.

“No,” Jon said, and Tim could hear the smirk in his voice. “It took her two minutes to get lost.”

Tim let out a sharp shout of laughter.

Melanie crossed her arms. “It’s my first day! Give a girl a break!”

It was a few hours later when Tim looked up from his computer and saw Jon running down the stairs. As soon as he- they hit the floor, they started sprinting to the bullpen. Sasha and Melanie stopped their lesson in the computer programs and looked up to watch Jon race towards them.

“Jon?” Melanie said.

As soon as Jon reached them, they stopped instantly and started speaking at rapid-fire.

“Martin’s in trouble. I don’t know how or why I just know and we need to go help him.”

Tim’s stomach dropped.

“Is this one of your weird premonition things?” Sasha asked.

Melanie looked to Sasha in confusion. “What?”

“I- I don’t know. I spoke to Elias and I don’t know what he’s doing but he knows something that he’s not telling me and I’m going to Martin’s flat to help.”

Tim was instantly on his feet. “I’m coming, too.”

“Hold on!” Sasha yelled, on her feet now. “Jon, calm down. What did Elias say?”

“Well,” Jon started to stumble over their words. “He didn’t  _ say _ anything. It’s the way he looked at me and I just- you just have to believe me. If you don’t, fine. Stay here.”

“Maybe it’s better if you and Melanie stay here anyway,” Tim intervened. “Someone should be here in case Elias starts being cryptic again.”

Sasha looked at him with a worry that he was familiar with. She wasn’t just worried about Martin. She was worried about them going after whatever may or may not be endangering Martin, and she was worried about Jon, and so was Tim. Jon had been “knowing” things more without any evidence at all and the thing was, they were right way more than they were wrong.

Tim went to Sasha and held her hand in his. “It’s okay, Sasha. We’ll go check on Martin and come back. Don’t worry,” he said with a smile that he made just for her.

She returned a soft smile and Tim leaned down and gave her a quick kiss. Her lips were warm and tasted like peach from her chapstick. They parted and despite the fact that Martin was possibly in danger, holding Sasha’s hand and looking in her eyes comforted him. He just hoped he could pass some of that comfort to her as well. Sasha always had the plan. She was the calm and collected one. He relied on her for that, but he also knew that she needed to rely on him for the same.

“We’ll be back,” he said, and their hands gently slipped from each other. Tim looked back to Jon who turned around as soon as he looked at hi- them and went into their office. They came back out in less than five seconds pulling on their coat. Tim grabbed his own coat and keys and the two of them left the archives to Sasha and Melanie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned how much I despise Elias? He’s an absolute bastard and it took me forever to write the first scene with him.
> 
> Anyway, if y'all wanna hang between updates my tumblr is the same url as ao3.


	14. In the Walls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon takes a statement from Martin. Jon and Melanie find something intriguing behind a bookshelf.
> 
> **Content Warnings: homophobia and general bastardness from Bitchard

Tim tried not to take too much pleasure from the feeling of Jon clinging to him from behind as they raced through London. His mind was on Martin, but he couldn’t exactly ignore Jon’s arms wrapped around his waist, and the helmet pressed into his shoulder. On every turn, Tim felt Jon squeeze tighter around his waist and his head spun the same way it did the first time Sasha had hugged him; the way he wasn’t sure he wanted to admit he felt about Jon.

Stop. No. He wasn’t going to think like that. Martin was in trouble. Besides, he didn’t even know if Sasha was okay with that.

Tim slowed to a stop in front of Martin’s building and turned off his bike as Jon took their helmet off and clumsily got off the bike. Tim locked his bike and dismounted before catching up with Jon at the front door of the building.

“What floor is he on?” Jon asked, out of breath.

“Third,” Tim replied.

They climbed stairs to the third level then, down the corridor to Martin’s door. Jon firmly knocked on the door.

“Martin?” he called, knocking again.

There was no reply and Tim felt his chest tighten. Where would they look if it turned out that Martin wasn’t inside his flat? He pounded on the door. “Martin!” When there was no reply, Tim felt panic start to surge. He turned the doorknob to find it was locked and rapidly tried to think of what to do next.

“Step back.”

Jon looked at him, a question on his face, and took a few steps back.

Tim squared his shoulders and rushed the door, pushing his shoulder into the wood. A dull pain ran through his shoulder and collar bone. He looked back at the door. He hadn’t done a thing. He tried it again, only receiving a second dose of that same dull ache.

“Stop it,” Jon demanded. “You’re going to dislocate your shoulder!”

“Well, then how do you propose we get in?”

“You have to kick it open near the door handle.” Jon stepped forward. They lifted their leg and kicked firmly right beside the doorknob. It sounded surprisingly forceful despite Jon’s small structure. “Like that.”

Jon stepped back, making space for Tim. Tim inhaled and exhaled, staring at the spot beside the doorknob where Jon had kicked the door. He raised his leg and put all his force into his kick and he felt his foot slip on the door. “Damnit,” he cursed under his breath. “Come on, come on.” He raised his leg again, kicked, and planted his foot on the door before he felt the door give and swing open. Tim didn’t have time to feel any kind of pride or relief before his foot fell forward and he lost his balance. His arms swung beside him as he fell. Then there were arms under his and he looked up to see Jon holding him up.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

As soon as Tim was back on his feet, Jon pushed the door open and rushed in front of Tim. There was white smoke and suddenly Tim couldn’t breathe. There was a loud bang and coughing and then a hand around his wrist that pulled him out of the white cloud. Tim found a wall to lean on and held a hand to his chest while he hacked up a lung. He stopped and inhaled deeply and slowly until he was sure that he’d filled his lungs with oxygen again. When he looked up, there was a fire extinguisher on the floor, and Jon and Martin were hugging and Tim wasn’t sure which one of them looked like they needed more comfort.

God, why were they like this? Why was  _ he _ like this?

They went straight back to the institute. Jon insisted that they take the tube so Martin could ride with Tim on his bike, but Martin didn’t seem too inclined to riding on the back of Tim’s bike despite the ample space. That left Tim to ride back to the institute by himself while Jon and Martin took the tube.

* * *

It’d been a day and Martin had all but moved into the Institute. Sasha had brought in some blankets and pillows to make a bed for Martin and they all chipped in to put some food and drink in the fridge in the breakroom.

When they’d first gotten back to the institute after breaking down Martin’s door, Sasha gave him a hug, and though Melanie didn’t know Martin she seemed somewhat concerned as well.

“I want to give a statement,” Martin told them.

“Are you sure?” Jon asked.

“I mean, it’s what we do, right?”

“All right.”

Jon followed Martin into their office- Martin didn’t need a guide- and Jon closed the door behind them. They put a new tape into the recorder and started it, the sound click precursing to the steady, grainy sound of the tape running around the wheels of the tape.

“Statement of Martin Blackwood, archival assistant at the Magnus Institute London, regarding-”

“A close encounter with what I believe may have been Jane Prentiss.”

Jon’s eyes widened and they only managed to stare at Martin for a moment. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.” There was no question or uncertainty in his voice.

A silent moment passed with just the grainy sound of the tape recorder before Jon shook themself out of their stupor. “Statement recorded direct from subject, December thirteenth, 2016. Statement begins.”

Martin started speaking and unlike usually, his voice came out in steady streams that weren’t necessarily the most confident, but it was without stutters or stumbling over words, like others who he’d taken a direct statement from. Was it the process of reliving trauma that made everyone less fidgety? Even Jon found themself with his hands clasped on their desk perfectly still along with their whole body.

Jon listened to every word Martin spoke; how the grim tale came from his lips and almost radiated off of him. Listening to Martin’s story cleared Jon’s mind and put them at ease. When Martin stopped, it took Jon a moment to bring his focus back to the present moment and place.

“Right. I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Martin just nodded along. Jon’s grip on their hands loosened. What was the protocol to comfort someone who was your friend and had kissed you once?

Martin was their friend. How would they comfort a friend?

Jon stood up, their chair rolling back, and Martin looked up at them suddenly. “Would you like some tea?”

Martin smiled softly and opened his mouth to respond as they heard Tim’s shout from outside Jon’s office. Martin jumped to his feet in shock.

_ Damnit, Elias. What the Hell. _

“What happened?” Martin asked in a panic.

“Just Elias,” Jon said in an exhale that hardly released any of the building frustration in their chest. Melanie’s voice was suddenly raising as well from outside. Great. Wonderful. Jon pulled their door open and walked into the main room to find Tim and Melanie on their feet in front of Elias, whose back was to Jon, while Sasha seemed to be trying to mitigate the damage.

“What is the problem?”

* * *

Melanie walked in in the middle of chaos going on at their desks. She stopped in her tracks just outside some shelves when she saw Tim and Sasha on their feet, Tim looking down at Elias like he’d just stolen his lunch. As Melanie got closer, she listened.

“This is a professional facility and I expect you to dress that way, Tim.”

“And nail polish is suddenly so unprofessional?” Tim barked back. “Are you going to go tell Rosie that she can’t have her nails done anymore?”

“That’s different and you know it, Stoker.”

“Hm.” Tim leaned back onto his desk, his arms crossed over his chest with a mystified expression that did not at all hide how pissed he was. “I don’t think I do. Please educate me, Elias.”

Melanie reached her desk, putting a folder down in front of her computer. “What’s happening?”

“Elias is homophobic,” Tim stated.

“I’m gay,” Elias retorted.

“And?” Tim grabbed something small from his desk and tossed it at Melanie. She barely saw it in time to reach out and catch (it was a pretty good throw on Tim’s part).

Melanie looked in her hand to see a purple, galaxy esque nail polish with a black handle. “You have a problem with Tim painting his nails?” she asked incredulously.

“Men should present as such in this institute,” Elias commanded.

“Oh yeah,” Melanie started “Mr. I put so much product in my hair it doesn’t even look like hair, Bouchard.”

Elias’s stern gaze turned to her and Melanie didn’t look away. God’s sake, she’d only been here three days and the big boss was already an asshole. Well, Jon had warned her.

“This is bullshit,” she said, quite louder than she’d meant to, but she didn’t at all regret it.

Melanie didn’t notice Jon walk out of their office, but everyone stopped when they spoke, even Elias. Jon asked if there was a problem, but it came out much more like a demand.

Elias glanced back at Jon before turning towards them. Melanie watched Elias stare at Jon for a moment, particularly the long, wool skirt they wore, before he spoke. “It seems the feminine accessories are growing in number in my archives.”

Jon glared at Elias and something about it made Melanie balk like their glare was directed at her instead of just at their boss. “This is blatant homophobia and I will not stand for it in  _ my _ archives.”

“You’ll do well to remember that this is my institute and always has been. I employed you to be Head Archivist as I expect that you make changes that are necessary when I tell you as that is my job description, not yours.”

“Is being a homophobic prick part of that job description,” Tim said in no uncertain way.

Elias didn’t acknowledge Tim. He and Jon stared at each other and Melanie swore she could feel the air gain density in their silence. She could see Martin standing in Jon’s office, looking on with mild shock.

Then, in a solid, sturdy voice Melanie had never heard Jon use before, he said, “What do you want, Elias?”

A smile spread over Elias’ face, sly and prideful like he’d been waiting specifically for Jon to ask him that. “Nice try, Archivist,” he said, and Melanie hated the smugness in his voice “but you won’t get anything out of me.”

Jon looked absolutely unphased but curious about what Elias said.

“You could just not have an archive staff if you prefer,” Sasha said.

Elias turned to look at Sasha directly. “Have fun with that endeavor,” he said, and then he started walking away and no one said anything until Jon dropped their arms by their sides once Elias was upstairs.

“What did he mean by that?” Sasha asked though it sounded more like a demand.

“Maybe he knows you’re looking for other jobs,” Tim supplied.

“What?” Jon suddenly looked confused and tired.

“I’m looking for other jobs,” Sasha reaffirmed. “I’m obviously not going to be able to make a career here but the pay’s good, so I’ve been saving up; we both have,” she finished, glancing up at Tim.

“Oh,” Jon said quietly. “You’re moving in with each other?”

“We weren’t going to say anything until we had a place picked out and ready,” Sasha confessed with a guilty smile. “It was going to be a surprise and we were going to have a house party.”

“Congrats you two,” Melanie said, perched on top of her own desk. “So when’s the wedding?”

Sasha laughed brilliantly while Tim blushed and tried to pass off a laugh with Sasha.

* * *

“Hey, are you all right?”

Jon glanced at her, meeting her gaze as the two of them walked through the shelves of the archives. “I’m fine. Why?”

“I’ve never seen you get like that before- with Elias back there.”

It seemed to catch them off guard because all Jon did was shrug and keep going like they didn’t want to talk about it.

“Well,” Melanie started with a huff, “if you’re not going to talk to me, at least talk to Georgie or someone.”

When they didn’t so much as scoff at her, that’s when she legitimate anxiety started crawling up her skin. She reached out and took hold of his arm, stopping them both in place. Jon glanced at where her hand held their arm before looking at her like they weren’t quite used to the physical contact, yet.

“Jon, I’m your friend. That means you can tell me what’s up or I can keep banging on the door until it opens.” Jon smiled a little, which wasn’t what Melanie had been expecting but it was a start. She let go of their arm. “What’s up?”

“A lot, I guess,” they said. “Last week all I could think about was kissing Martin and today we just had to rescue him from his own flat.”

“Well, I’m sure he’d appreciate another kiss from a certain- person.” Melanie tried to think of something on the spot, but that’s all she had come up with, though it made Jon smile while they blushed so she was doing something right.

Jon didn’t say anything then, but he stopped and turned into a different aisle of shelves. It was only her third day but she was pretty sure the files they were after weren’t this way. “Jon?” They didn’t reply and just kept walking. She walked behind him now, unsure of what they were doing. “If you’re trying to scare me it’s not working.”

They came to the edge of the room and stopped in front of a large bookcase. Melanie let out a deep exhale and walked around to look Jon in the face. “Hey.” It took her a moment to recognize the complacency in their eyes. Jon reached out and tugged on a blue book on the shelf that looked like it’d seen better days, though that description could be attached to anything in these archives.

“Hey, Jon,” she said, concerned. She waved her hand slowly over their face and snapped her fingers by their ear.

Jon suddenly stiffened and looked at Melanie. “What?”

“You were dissociating,” she explained, “like, really heavily.”

Jon quickly looked back to the bookshelf. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I was just concerned.”

Jon let their arm drop back to their side but not before accidentally letting the book they’d grabbed tumble off the shelf. There was a click and something behind the shelf shifted.

“What the hell,” Melanie said under her breath.

“There’s something behind here.” Jon moved and was trying to pull the bookshelf to the side. Melanie felt a spark in her, the same feeling she got exploring abandoned places. She jumped at this chance and helped Jon move the bookcase that slid across the carpet remarkably easily.

In the wall, there was a rough cut out big enough for an adult to go through. The edges were sharp and ragged like someone had taken their own knife to the wall.

“After you,” Melanie said with a wave of her arm.

“How generous,” Jon replied with a roll of their eyes. They pulled their phone from their pocket and turned on their torch before hunching down and going inside while Melanie followed them into the wall.

Inside, there was room enough to stand but they had to walk single file through the wood structure. They walked up some things that resembled steps and kept forward. Jon’s light cast shadows in corners and around their feet.

The air left Melanie’s lungs when she walked right into Jon.

“Hey, why’d you stop?”

“There’s a stereo,” they said and heard the excitement in their voice. Jon scrambled forward quicker than she’d ever seen them move and they were suddenly on their knees in front of an old, dusty stereo on the floor.

This was just getting weirder by the second, and Melanie loved it.

She knelt down next to Jon and had barely gotten as comfortable as she could get in a cramped hidey place when Jon handed her their phone. “Hold this.”

Jon pulled their sleeve over their hand and dusted off the old thing while Melanie tried to make sure they had light enough wherever they needed to see. Jon’s smile devoured their face as they frantically opened different things and ran their fingers over cords and wires. She’d seen Jon laugh and smile and genuinely enjoy themself, but she’d never seen them this excited.

“Are you into music?”

“A little,” they replied and Melanie scoffed. Jon was apparently too busy with their new toy to be offended. “I used to write music, okay?”

“Really?”

Jon nodded. “Hey, give me my phone.” Melanie handed it over to which Jon promptly turned the torch off and unlocked the screen.

“You think this thing still works?”

“Someone installed a power outlet up her and plugged it in.” Jon faced their phone to the sketchy looking outlet attached to a support beam with wiring coming out the back and going down. “There’s even an aux cord.” They handed their phone back to Melanie. “Give me your phone.”

“Not going to hack into it another way and spill all my secrets?” she joked as she handed it over while taking Jon’s.

“No. That’s Sasha’s job.”

Melanie laughed and resigned herself to watch Jon. She watched Jon plug the aux cord into her phone and start scrolling through her music, but it was only later that she realized that she’d never given Jon her passcode.

Jon pressed buttons on the stereo that turned little lights on and their hand moved over all the dials and switches like they’d always known how to do this. They chose a song on Melanie’s phone and she watched it load up and start playing.

“Call Tim.”

Melanie still wasn’t sure what was happening; she didn’t hear any music, but she went into Jon’s contacts and called Tim and put it on speaker. The tone barely had time to ring before it was picked up.

“Yeah, boss?” came Tim’s voice.

“Hey, Tim,” Melanie said, simply asserting that she was there.

“Hi, Melanie. What’s up?”

“Can you hear anything in the archives?” Jon asked.

“Uh, no? Where are you?”

Jon turned the big dial drastically and suddenly they could hear music coming from somewhere as well as a gritty version coming through the phone.

“Are you playing MCR in the archives?” Tim asked, his voice rising incredulously. “We have a sound system?” They could hear the excitement rising in Tim’s voice, and when Melanie looked back up at Jon they were absolutely beaming. “Sasha! Martin! Jon and Melanie found a sound system! Where are you guys?”

“Somewhere in the walls,” Melanie answered.

“What?”

They both laughed at Tim’s confusion.

This was nice. This is all she really needed in life. It’s what Jon’s been missing, too, she thought. She thought back to the beginning of the day when none of them knew where Martin was, then the issue with Elias, and she almost couldn’t believe that they’d ended up here, blasting music through a hidden sound system in the walls and laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading and staying on the journey that is this fic! I'm so glad you're enjoying it! This chapter is going to mark the end of an act I of sorts for this fic. This just means that it might be a hot minute until the next chapter and it's probably, maybe, just might get a little more intense and canon esque.
> 
> If y'all want, I could do a fluff chapter as a sort of interlude?? idk
> 
> I hope you all enjoy, and thank you!!!


	15. Secrets of Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JonMartin and The Admiral.
> 
> That's it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready y’all because we’re taking off from here until the end! You might notice that there’s a final chapter count now and I hope you’ll all still be here when the last part is posted! Thank you all so much!
> 
> This chapter was supposed to have a lot more in it, but it was getting long so you'll get the rest and more in the next chapter! I hope you enjoy it!

The next few days they all continued with work, though Martin was a bit skittish. He’d taken to carrying around a corkscrew and every so often one of them would find a fire extinguisher Martin had hidden throughout the archives; it was a good defense against the worms, he said. Jon was worried about Martin, but they tried to be patient.

Jon knocked on the office door that had become Martin’s room while he stayed at the institute. It was just an empty storage room that they’d cleared out a bit for Martin, but it worked.

Martin looked up from a notebook with a pencil in hand that he quickly closed. “Hi, Jon!” He smiled softly like it was a comfort to see them or like he’d been expecting them.

“I brought you some tea,” Jon said. They could feel their pulse quicken and their blood felt warm under their skin. “I thought you might like some after- everything. It might not be how you like. I don’t usually make tea, but…” Their words trailed off as they ran out of things to say.

Martin got to his feet and walked closer to Jon. “I’m sure it’s lovely.” Jon handed the mug to Martin and watched him take a tentative sip and his smile widened. “It’s perfect,” he said a bit astounded.

Jon let themself feel a little bit of pride. To be honest, Jon hadn’t really known what they were doing when they’d prepared it; they just did it. “I’m glad you like it.” Jon held on tightly to the edge of their sleeve and they could feel the fabric dampen from their own sweat. “I’ll leave you alone then.”

“Actually, um, I was wondering if we could talk?”

“Of course,” Jon said before they really thought about anything.

Martin walked back into the room and sat on the floor with his tea held in his lap and Jon followed and took a seat in front of him. There was just silence between them for several moments and Jon was absolutely panicking. They pulled in the edges of their sleeves, trying to be as subtle as they could about it while their mind was racing. Martin let out a deep breath, took a long sip from his mug before looking at Jon directly. Jon tried to make eye contact, but it had always made them uncomfortable and they ended up looking just above or below to try to seem like they were.

“So, um, I don’t know how you felt about what happened- I mean, well, us kissing last Friday, but I just, I wanted to tell you that I really liked it and I know we were both a few drinks in and if you don’t feel anything about it I absolutely understand. I just want to tell you that I think, well not  _ think _ but, well I love you.”

As soon as Martin said those words, he stopped and just stared at Jon, waiting for an answer, uncertainty, and anxiety written all over his face.

He loved them. That sentiment made Jon’s chest and stomach turn in loops and it made them want so badly to just shake their hands in front of them until all their nerves ran out. 

Martin loved them.

How did they respond to that?

“I…” they started. This would be so easy to mess up, to accidentally step on. “I like you,” they said and watched Martin deflate a little. “No, no! I mean, us kissing, it was very nice and I care about you, and if you wanted to perhaps kiss again, I would- I would very much like that.”

The two of them just sat there for a moment. Martin was smiling and Jon was positive they were blushing more than they ever had before. They watched Martin carefully put his tea on the floor beside him and then reach out for one of Jon’s hands that they met halfway. Jon’s hand was terribly clammy and sweaty, but their hands held each other and the next thing that happened was a kiss between them.

They were somehow closer than Jon had thought, but all Jon was thinking about was holding Martin’s hand tightly in theirs and Martin’s lips on theirs. They moved slowly with each other. It was soft and loving and the clutter in Jon’s mind slowly stopped being so important, because all they wanted to think about was this; Martin being this close to them with their eyes closed and just for this moment, there was nothing else to worry about.

They slowly pulled back from each other. The feel of Martin’s lips on theirs lingered on Jon’s lips and in their mouth. Martin looked at them and Jon surprised themself by looking at him, too. They stared into Martin’s eyes, analyzing the color and how wide his pupils were while they felt his breath on their skin.

Jon felt a buzz in their pocket and let out an annoyed breath. Martin suddenly let go of their hands nervously and Jon wanted dearly to reach out and hold them again. They pulled their phone out and saw a text from Georgie.

**Georgie:** wasn’t so hard was it?

**Jon:** what wasn’t?

**Georgie:** …  
**Georgie:** Melanie sent me a pic. You and martin are really cute and I’m proud of you for actually talking to him :)

Jon felt the blood under their skin boil. They yelled out the door. “Melanie!”

**Jon:** thanks but now I have to kill Melanie.

**Georgie:** lol ok

“What’s wrong?” Martin’s voice was nervous and concerned, and when Jon looked up to him it was almost reassuring.

“Nothing. Just Melanie.”

A look of realization passed over his face. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Jon mimicked.

“She passed by and glanced in earlier- Melanie did. I uh, I didn’t say anything because, you know, you don’t talk much and I really thought we should talk.”

A shout from somewhere else in the archives came then. “Yeah, Jon? Done getting kisses from Martin?”

Jon got to their feet and stormed out the door with Matin hot on their heels. There was soft music playing in the main area. Melanie was sitting at her desk with her feet up on her desk and a shit-eating grin on her face.

“I will fire you during your first week,” they threatened.

Melanie held up something small in her hand and the volume of the music rapidly increased. “What?” she shouted. “I can’t hear you!”

Sasha and Tim came down the stairs carrying blankets and pillows that towered over their heads. As soon as they made it to the bullpen, they both dropped everything in their arms on the floor revealing pleasant smiles from both of them?

“What’s happening?” Martin asked, shouting over the music.

Jon turned back to him readjusting his glasses and looking at the pile of blankets and pillows with confusion. _Shit._ _That’s right._ _They hadn’t told him._

“Jon,” Sasha scolded while yelling “You didn’t tell him?”

“I forgot, okay? I have a lot on my mind!”

Sasha rolled her eyes and looked at Martin. “We’re all staying the night with you today!” she proclaimed.

“Really?”

“Yep!” Tim shouted. “You get our glorious company for an entire forty-eight hours!”

Martin laughed while Tim beamed.

“Hey, Jon!” Melanie yelled. She was still sitting with her feet up on her desk, her phone in hand right in front of her face.

“Can’t hear you!” Jon shouted back.

She moved her phone enough to glare at them while Jon just shrugged their shoulders. She held up the small remote and the music gradually decreased until it was at a pleasant background level.

“Thank you.”

“Shut up. Are cats allowed in the archives?”

Cats. There was only one cat they both knew. “Sure.”

Tim turned to them immediately. “So a dog is awful and makes a mess and isn’t allowed in the archives, but cats are fine?”

“Yeah,” Jon answered. “Cats don’t make a mess and they’re quiet.”

“If the cat takes a shit while it’s here I am not cleaning it up,” Tim said, and Jon just shrugged.

“She’ll be here in half an hour,” Melanie said, sliding her phone into her pocket.

“The cat?” Martin asked.

“My girlfriend.”

“Georgie,” Jon clarified. “Tell her to bring a pillow.”

Melanie nodded.

“That’s your friend with the nice hair and the podcast, right?” Sasha asked and Jon nodded.

Jon helped Sasha set down blankets on the floor between the desks. They put down two layers of blankets for the bed before tossing the remaining blankets and the pillows in a pile in the corner.

Melanie swung around on her chair and put her feet down right on top of the blankets on the floor. “So where do you guys usually go to eat?”

“Melanie King get your dirty shoes off the bed!” Sasha scolded.

Melanie stared back at her with wide eyes like she’d forgotten what it’d been like to be scolded by a parent. She then slowly unlaced her boots and slipped her feet out. She picked them up and dropped them on her desk without breaking eye contact with Sasha who then nodded with approval.

“There’s a Thai place down the street that Sasha likes,” Tim said.

“Cool.” Melanie held up the little remote and the music suddenly changed to something slower with a swing beat. She jumped to her feet with an overly confident smile that worried Jon. She ran right over to Sasha, bowed, and held out a hand as if Sasha were a member of the royal family. “May I have this dance, Mother?”

Sasha grinned and gracefully placed her hand in Melanie’s. “You may, my darling.” Sasha slipped off her shoes and the two of them walked onto the blanketed floor and started dancing a waltz or something. Jon never really learned how to ballroom dance. The two of them seemed to know what they were doing, though. They were both smiling despite only having known each other for about a week.

“Do you want to dance?”

Jon looked up at Martin. They hadn’t seen him walk up, but he was now standing right in front of them.

“Well, I,” they started stumbling. “I don’t really know how to dance,” they muttered.

“I’m going to be honest, Jon,” Martin said a little nervously. “I don’t really know either.”

Jon looked up at him, a little less embarrassed than they had been, and smiled. They took Martin’s hand. Jon stepped closer to Martin and they could feel his breath on their skin. Martin put his hand on Jon’s hip, setting off a mix of turbulent feelings spinning in their chest. Jon somehow remembered that their hand should be on Martin’s shoulder (just about the only thing they knew about dancing) and put their hand there. Martin’s smile spread over his face and his cheeks were quickly turning pink.

“Martin,” Jon said slowly, “are you blushing?”

Martin immediately turned away, his cheeks going from pink to red. “Absolutely not.”

Jon laughed, and they let their laugh ring out of their throat. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I wouldn’t say embarrassed is the right word.”

“Then what?”

Martin looked back at them. “Well, I am dancing with a beautiful person.”

Jon felt all their blood rush to their face. What the hell were they supposed to respond with to that? “You sure you’re not talking about yourself?” Martin’s blush was fierce.

“You two are absolutely adorable,” Melanie said.

Jon rolled their eyes, refusing to give her the satisfaction of looking at her. “Fuck off, Melanie.”

“So rude!”

Jon and Martin started doing something that was supposed to be dancing. Mostly it was just shuffling along, sometimes in circles, while they both tried not to step on each other’s feet. Jon never thought they’d enjoy something so mundane like this, but they found it relaxing. Looking up into Martin’s face, calm and happy, made them feel like, for once, that they belonged somewhere, like they were wanted.

Martin started to slowly lean down like he was giving Jon the chance to stop him. Jon instead, chose to close their eyes. They felt Martin’s lips on theirs; soft and sweet. Martin kissed like they had all the time in the world. Jon took a breath leaned into the kiss. They picked up their hand from Martin’s shoulder and put their hand under Martin’s cheek and felt Martin lean into them. It was like they’d done this a hundred times before and when they pulled back, Jon’s chest felt light as Martin looked at them with his smile.

Jon heard footsteps and looked to their left to see Tim walking over with a smile as well. It might have just been Jon overthinking again, but they thought that Tim seemed a little nervous, like he was trying to cover it up with his smile. He looked to Jon and asked, “May I cut in?”

Jon glanced at Martin and slowly disentangled themself from Martin. “Have fun,” they said and went to sit on a table by Sasha. A few meters away, they watched Martin and Tim start a more lively shuffle. Their mouths moved, but they spoke in whispers. Jon reminded themself that they didn’t need to know what they were talking about either; it didn’t matter.

Sasha leaned back against the table beside Jon. “Sure he’s not gonna steal your man after one hour?”

Jon stifled a small laugh. “I trust Tim.”

“Really.”

“Yes.” Jon turned to see Sasha smiling at them strangely like she knew something that they didn’t. “What?”

“Nothing,” she sang but didn’t stop staring at them while Jon narrowed their eyes at her. “You don’t trust Martin?”

Jon felt their blood rise to their face. “No- I mean, I do, but-” They grit their teeth and tried to think rationally for a second before they responded. They bit the inside of their cheek. Did they trust Martin? Yes, they trusted him. They trusted him enough to be vulnerable around him, and that may have been the most trust they were able to put in a person, but Tim… “I’ve just known Tim longer, you know?”

She nodded, her grin changing into a knowing smile. “I know.” She still had that look in her eyes like she was keeping a secret she desperately wanted to tell them.

Jon purposely looked away from her and looked back at Martin and Tim. They were a few meters away, quietly dancing. Tim seemed to be leading and Jon wondered if Tim and Sasha ever went out to dance. Jon glanced back at Sasha to see her scrolling through her phone.

_ This is nice _ , they thought. They felt butterflies in their stomach (even though they thought that phrase over romanticizes the feeling that wasn’t a good combination with their anxiety). They supposed it was an all right feeling to have then though. It was nice to relax around people they cared about.

They did care about them. They were their friends. Jon supposed they had to be in order to put up with Jon for so long. They trusted Tim, and they did trust Martin, too.

Jon had started working in research only a week or so after Tim had. Back then, Tim hadn’t been the same person he was now. Tim would keep to himself and he always seemed angry or like he had something else on his mind. Maybe that’s why him and Jon seemed to get along. Jon had never had many friends even as a kid (other kids usually thought they were weird), but the companionship the two of them built during work was something Jon secretly looked forward to when work became tiring.

A lot of things happened and a lot of things didn’t happen.

Tim and they had kept a- an interesting friendship with something between them that Jon had never wanted to admit or think about because it confused them. With Martin it was simple, however, Tim had been their first real friend in years.

There was suddenly a shout and Jon jumped, shocked out of their thoughts, and turned around to see Melanie who had shouted from the staircase to announce her return. She carried a bag and carrier with her while Georgie walked in beside her holding The Admiral, and a pillow under her arm. Jon scooted off the table and walked up to greet them, specifically Georgie.

Georgie dropped her pillow and returned the hug Jon gave her, doing their best not to disturb The Admiral in her arms who they then turned all their attention to, scratching him on the crown of his head where they knew he liked it. Georgie just laughed. “Do you want to hold him?”

“Hey, you said  _ I _ could hold him when we got inside,” Melanie complained, her hands still full.

Jon quickly and carefully scooped The Admiral out of the crook of Georgie’s arm and held him close to their chest. “The Admiral doesn’t like  _ spies _ , Melanie.”

“It’s who I  _ am _ , Jon,” she said back.

“Being a traitor isn’t a personality trait.”

“That’s what you think.”

Jon proceeded to walk away with the fluffy, grey cat in their arms and sit down on the edge of the blankets. The Admiral nestled into their lap and laid his head on Jon’s leg. Jon couldn’t help a small smile. The Admiral had always helped to calm them and they loved to run their fingers through his thick fur.

Jon’s head swiveled around as they heard Tim and Martin laugh. The Admiral had startled in the same moment Jon had and jumped from Jon’s lap, running straight into the open doorway of Jon’s office. Jon sat on the blankets dejectedly while Sasha and Georgie laughed at the poor Admiral’s frightened sprint. Jon got to their feet and slowly walked into their office.

Jon spotted the Admiral almost immediately on top of the small duffel in the corner Jon had used to bring some clothes and toiletries for the night. They crouched down and slowly approached The Admiral, holding their hand out. They clicked their tongue a few times as they got closer. The Admiral lifted his head, reaching out a bit to sniff Jon’s hand when they were close enough. Jon felt The Admiral’s cold nose and then the warm fuzz of his head as he pushed the top of his head into Jon’s hand. Jon smiled automatically when they heard a soft purr started to emanate from The Admiral. They sat down, their leg pressed to their duffel, and pet The Admiral, soothing his grey fur.

Melanie’s voice came from behind them. “Why can’t you be like this at work, too?”

“Get fucked.”

They heard a smothered laugh that sounded like Sasha.


	16. The Beginning of The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Late night dinner with the archive crew + Georgie, an encounter with the not-them, and a much-needed conversation for Jon at 4 am.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Horror? In a tma fic?   
> I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it (at least the beginning of it anyway)!
> 
> **Content Warnings: Cursing, Smoking, talk about suicidal ideation

“I’m hungry,” Sasha muttered.

Martin hummed in his sleep, acknowledging the statement only partially from a state of unconsciousness Jon wished they could achieve as quickly as Martin had. This wasn’t so bad, though.

Jon had lied down next to Martin a bit nervously, but when they’d seen Martin’s smile, they knew it was a good choice. They’d faced each other, their heads even, and Martin had pushed his hand up to Jon’s and woven their fingers together. Jon still held onto Martin’s hand and they felt calm. Maybe there was something about being with another person that made the world seem a little more bearable.

“Jon,” Sasha whispered.

Jon kept still, trying to keep their breathing slow and regular and to seem like they were fast asleep. They heard a shuffling of blankets and then silence again.

“Put your finger in their ear,” Georgie said. “They hate that and there’s no way they’re already asleep.”

Jon listened carefully to The Admiral meow in surprise as a hushed apology from Sasha as she moved. They couldn’t hear footsteps, but they swear they could feel Sasha’s gaze on them. They kept still right up until they felt some of their hair being pushed behind their ear.

“Don’t you dare.”

“So you  _ are  _ awake!” she whispered.

Jon turned around with heavy eyelids to see Sasha leaning over them, her hair hidden under a silk cap, not unlike the one they knew Georgie slept in. They scowled at her, her fingers still in their hair. “Don’t.” Sasha immediately pulled her hand away and Jon’s hair fell back in place over their ear. Jon turned back to face Martin, their hands still clasped, and closed their eyes.

“Tim forgot to bring snacks, Jon.”

“Ask Georgie.”

Georgie immediately spoke up, a bit louder than necessary perhaps. “You’re not blaming this one on me.”

“Not blaming,” Jon started “more… Well, I guess I am blaming you.” Next thing they knew, a pillow came flying over in the dim darkness and landed just in front of Jon on Martin.

Martin startled awake, losing his grip on Jon’s hand, and sat up, his head spinning around while those of them who’d already been awake all laughed.

“What happened?” Martin slurred as he patted around the nearby area for his glasses.

Jon picked up the pair of frames from behind his pillow and put them in Martin’s hand. “Nothing, Martin,” they said with a smile. “Everything’s fine.” Jon leaned forward and planted their lips on Martin’s cheek quickly before pulling back and sitting.

Martin found Jon’s hand again and relaced their fingers together before he slipped his glasses onto his face with his other hand. “What time is it?”

Georgie was lying down a meter or so away with Melanie curled into her side and her phone held above her. The blue light lit up her face and the area around her. “I don’t know.”

“Your. Phone.” Jon threw the pillow back at her and successfully knocked her phone out of her hand as it fell to the floor with a muffled thump.

Melanie shifted in her sleep. When she’d stilled again, Georgie tilted her head back until she could scowl at Jon silently. “Wonderful problem-solving skills as always, Mx Sims.”

“Your own fault.” Jon failed to deliver their line with as much sarcasm as Georgie had. Hearing the “Mx” prefix in reference to them… That hit differently in them. They just wanted to crawl over to Georgie and hug her.

“The hell is so interesting you have to talk so loud,” came Melanie’s muffled voice.

“We’re getting food,” Sasha said.

Melanie’s head perked up. “Food?”

“Yes!”

Melanie sat up and looked down at Georgie, and even though it was dark, Jon knew she was smiling when Georgie brought her head back to look back at her.

Jon’s gaze shifted when Sasha turned on her torch and shined it in Tim's eyes, getting an immediate response from Tim in the form of groans. Tim rolled over, pulling a blanket over his head. Martin laughed, and at that Tim slowly pulled the blanket down and squinted in their direction.

“The hell, Martin.”

“Don’t look at me! It was Sasha!”

“Maybe,” Tim said slowly. “It’s your handsome laugh that’ll keep me up, though.” Martin blushed and Jon couldn’t help smiling.

When was the last time they’d smiled so much? Is this what people meant when they said it gets better?

“Come on, Tim!” Sasha nagged. “We’re getting dinner.”

“We already had dinner.”

“Second dinner.”

“Come on, Stoker.” Melanie was on her feet, marching over to Tim and yanking his arm up.

“Hey!”

“Get up!”

“I just woke up!”

“So did I, twit.”

There was a lot more grumbling about before everyone was awake and conscious and a light had been turned on. Everyone started getting their things; Tim, Martin, and Sasha changed while the other half of them didn’t bother to change out of their nightclothes.

“You’re going to make me put on shoes, aren’t you?” Melanie whined.

“You’re the one who wants food so badly,” Jon said, pulling on their own shoe over a thick sock.

“Yeah, but like- shoes just suck,” she said and laced up her boots.

They all piled into Melanie’s van that was only warmer because it shielded them from the bitter wind. There was some bickering all around on where to go, but they decided on a twenty-four-hour pub (mostly because they were all tired and knew it’d be open). It was actually Jon who pointed it out, yelling over everyone else that they knew where an open place could be found, leading Melanie to take a sharp turn, sliding on some slush that almost had the van on its side.

It wasn’t a bad place, though Jon was quite sleep-deprived and their inner critic had long since fallen unconscious. The lights were dimmed in certain areas and Jon would have much preferred to go sit under those lights, but Sasha and Melanie led everyone to a large corner booth with an old Tiffany lamp hanging overhead.

“Who’s paying?” Melanie asked once they’d received menus.

Georgie handed Jon a menu that they politely refused. “Jon, come on. Eat something.”

“It’s fine, really. I’m not hungry.”

“Sims, you hardly even ate dinner,” Melanie said across Georgie. “Pick something out or I’ll do it for you.”

“You’re not my mom.”

“Do you want one?” she asked in a tone that was vaguely threatening and left Jon without words and an open mouth.

“Here,” Georgie continued without missing a beat after Melanie like they were both in sync. “You’ll like this. It’s chicken rice soup.” She pushed the menu in front of Jon and pointed to a red menu item with a picture beside it of a soup filled with rice and bits of chicken and small flakes of herbs and vegetables.

“If I have to,” Jon whined. Georgie smiled and Jon couldn’t help smiling themself when they saw how happy she was.

They felt a hand hold theirs and looked to their other side and saw Martin who glanced at them as if asking if it was okay. Jon lifted their linked hands, bringing Martin’s to their lips and surprising Martin with a kiss on the back of his hand before lowering them below the table again.

Admittedly, sitting with six people crowded around a table was a bit claustrophobic, but Jon did their best to not think about that part and just focus on the smiles and voices of their friends, and their boyfriend sitting right beside them.

“You know,” Sasha said wistfully, “I’m going to miss this.”

“Miss what?” Martin asked.

“Work shenanigans,” she said blissfully. “I mean, we’ve all certainly been in certain danger working here, but I think times like these make it worth it.”

Jon looked at Sasha. “You sound like you’re leaving.”

Her eyes widened a bit like she’d let out a secret. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly, “I haven’t told you all, yet. I’ve been looking for a new job and I’ve got a few interviews next week. I just don’t think my career at the Magnus Institute is going anywhere and you know, I’d like to settle down one of these days.” She glanced up at Tim before looking around at all of them.

Jon made themself smile. “Well, I’ll be sad to see you go.”

“We all will,” Martin chimed in.

“Geez,” Tim cut in. “It’s not like she’s dying, guys.”

“Yeah!” Sasha said, perking up immediately. “This just means you’re going to get ten times as many texts from me as you usually do.”

“Oh, joy,” Jon said, going back to their soup while everyone laughed.

They’d started ordering drinks when the music and the clanking of dishes from the kitchen nearby, the bright lights and the loud voices, and the small area started to get to Jon, and they couldn’t push away the thrumming in their chest and the way the inside of their head was spinning. They looked around the table and saw Melanie on the other side of Georgie, and both Tim and Sasha on the other side of Martin.

They leaned closer to Martin and quietly said in his ear, “I’m going outside for some air.”

Martin nodded and put down his drink. He glanced around the table then started reaching for Georgie before Jon stopped him and sank underneath the table and crawled out to the other side before getting to their feet again.

“Where are you going?” Tim asked rather loudly and abruptly.

“Just getting some air,” they said with a smile.

Tim started to move, getting to his feet. He bumped the table and spilled his drink, beer quickly running over the table and into Melanie’s chips. Jon was at the door before the raucous fully set on everyone at the table.

Jon pulled their coat on and zipped up. They were grateful they’d let their hair grow out now that it shielded the back of their neck from the cold. The wind had died down, but the air still had a bitter chill to it that scratched at their skin.

Jon walked a few paces down the pavement, past the vicinity of the pub, before stopping and pulling out a cigarette and their lighter. They put the cigarette to their lips with one hand and held up the lighter in their other, pulling on the small wheel until a steady flame grew. They held the flame under the end of the cigarette long enough to let it burn while the small flame licked at their skin, the heat welcome in the cold climate. With a click, the flame went out and the device back into Jon’s pocket while they inhaled deeply and held their breath for a few seconds before slowly exhaling. The warmth filled their throat and after a few long drags, Jon felt dizziness end, and their heartbeat slow to a steady beat. Then, they heard a voice.

They didn’t catch what it said at first (they hadn’t been paying attention) and thought it might have just been some bloke passing by talking to themself or someone else. There was no one else on the streets however when they looked around. Then, the voice spoke again.

“Can I have a cigarette?”

Jon turned around to the alleyway behind them, a single light at the far end with shadows falling behind. There was a person there, but Jon wasn’t sure what they looked like. No matter how much they stared at them, they couldn’t pick out any defining details.

“Can I have a cigarette?” they asked again.

A shiver ran up Jon’s spine that they were certain wasn’t from the cold.

Something was wrong. Why was this so wrong?

“Can I have a cigarette?” It spoke in the same monotone voice. There was no inflection on the words. Jon wasn’t even quite sure it registered as a human voice in their mind. Each time it spoke was like a record skipping over the same line over and over again.

“Can I have a cigarette?”

Jon stared at this person, then something changed. They shifted their head and the shadow on their face changed.

They were smiling; grinning, and Jon recognized it on the spot.

They were back inside the pub in seconds, the warmth melting through their cold flesh, but all Jon could think about was if that creature had followed them. They couldn’t bring that thing back to everyone else. They stared out the window for a moment, their heart racing, but all they saw was the dark, empty street lit by the street lamps. They stood there, fixed in that spot for what could have been several minutes before they finally plied themselves away and rushed back to their table.

Everyone was talking and drinking like they had been when Jon had left. The beer mess had been cleaned up, evident by a small pile of soiled napkins on an empty plate.

“Move.” Jon sat down on the end of the booth beside Melanie, making her and Georgie move in to let them sit.

Melanie gave him a sour look. “What happened to you?”

“There’s something out there,” they mumbled under heavy breath.

Martin’s gaze was on Jon. “Jon, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” They looked across the table at Martin, Tim, and Sasha. “Do you remember a statement from Nathan Watts? It was from 2012 about an encounter in Edinborough. He went to have a smoke and something asked for a cigarette, but it wasn’t human.”

“I think I remember that,” Sasha answered. “This was some time ago. How do you remember all that?”

“Doesn’t matter. What matters is that I just had damn near the same encounter and it was the not-them.” Eyes widened, though Jon tried to contain the panic swimming through their arms and legs (they’d hardly noticed their leg bouncing aggressively under the table).

This news thoroughly killed the energy. Despite almost everyone having a few drinks, even Tim sobered. Jon took care of the bill (their apology for ruining the night) and they all piled back into Melanie’s van.

“So, this thing,” Melanie said as they walked back down to the archives. “Is there a plan to deal with it?”

“We don’t even really know what it is,” Georgie argued.

“We might not know what The Stranger is,” Jon said, “but there has got to be more statements about encounters with it.”

“Stranger?” Tim asked. Jon stopped and looked back to see confusion dusted on everyone’s faces.

“What?”

“You’ve never called it that before,” Martin noted.

“I guess it just came to me.” Jon was increasingly uncomfortable every time someone asked them how they knew something. They just knew it.

Jon didn’t sleep when they settled back down on the floor of the archives. They didn’t know what time it was when they gave up on sleep, but everyone else had fallen asleep by then.

They hadn’t been able to think of anything else but the Watts statement. It’d been the first statement they’d had to record on tape because the file kept getting corrupted on their computer. There were various other statements that’d had to be recorded on tape as well.

They had to reorganize. Maybe it didn’t matter when the statements were made, but what the statements pertained to.

Jon took a few select folders and found an office on the far side of the archives where they’d be able to work without disturbing the others. The fluorescent lights were blinding for a few seconds before they were able to adjust to the new setting. There was just a desk shoved into a corner with a few chairs stuffed beside it. Jon sat on the floor and started with the first folder. They skimmed through each statement and started organizing each of them into different categories. After the first two folders, they had piles respectively pertaining to heights, claustrophobia, dirt and bugs, and The Stranger.

“What are you doing?”

Jon jumped and the papers in their hands went flying. Their head snapped to the door to see Tim standing there, no shirt on, and his hair sticking in wild directions as he squinted at Jon.

“Just- working,” Jon said, taking a slow, deep breath before collecting the statement they’d just thrown over their piles.

“It’s four in the morning.”

Jon pointedly looked back down at the statement in their hands. “Nothing new.”

“Yeah,” Tim said like the fact was more annoying than anything. “That’s the problem. You’re going to burn yourself out again.”

“If it means I figure this out so none of you are in danger, so be it.”

Tim groaned and walked further into the office. “Stop trying to be a martyr! You keep stressing yourself out and you’ll have a stroke at, what, twenty-seven? Stop trying to kill yourself!”

Jon didn’t move. They didn’t breathe. They felt like the air was caught in their chest, and on some level, they hoped this was all just one of those horrible daydreams where someone saw through all their bullshit. They put the statement down on the floor in front of them and pushed their hands into their lap, trying to make them disappear.

Tim was right, wasn’t he? Things had been getting better for a while- a lot better, but in the end… Maybe once you started having those feelings, they never really left.

Tim came closer and sat down beside Jon who held themself still and didn’t look at him.

“Jon, I’m sorry. Listen,” he started softly in a way Jon hadn’t ever heard him speak before. “I know things get bad sometimes and it’s hard to dig yourself out. I lost my brother and I did everything I could think of to find him and it all accumulated into working at this cult library where I never got any closer to finding him, but things did get better. I met you and Sasha and Martin. The job kind of sucks but, you know, I found a family here.”

Jon carefully looked up at Tim. He wasn’t smiling. Maybe that’s what made Jon think that maybe Tim knew what he was talking about.

“Listen, I’m not going to give you the bullshit about how things get better and you just have to be patient and work for it or whatever. The truth is, life fucking sucks and sometimes nothing gets better, but I think one of the things is that you have to stay in the moment. Stop thinking about what happened or what might happen and just stay right here.” Tim reached out and grabbed one of Jon’s hands. “I can’t stop you from doing anything, and I know this is going to sound like bullshit because if I know anything you’ve probably heard this a hundred times from people who couldn’t commit, but I’m here for you. Let someone else take care of you sometimes and just focus on getting better for a day.”

Jon didn’t like the feeling of their cheeks being wet and knowing that their tears kept running. They squeezed Tim’s hand and held on, like it was the cliff’s edge they were clinging to.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Tim continued. “We can sit here if you want and just be quiet.”

And that’s what they did. Jon cried fitfully, letting go of Tim’s hand to dry their face, and at some point, they fell asleep.

When they next opened their eyes, they were being laid back down on the blanket bed and felt a blanket being draped over them. There was the soft warmth of a kiss on their head, and the last thing they saw before falling back to sleep was Tim and Martin.


End file.
